


Moonspell

by Elizabeth01Prince



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff, Drarry, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, Lots Of OC’s, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-09-02 02:27:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16777819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth01Prince/pseuds/Elizabeth01Prince
Summary: During Harry's 5th year at Hogwarts, Voldemort begins to devise a plan. He develops a new kind of portkey, an incredible magical artifact that Merlin himself couldn't have created.Harry suddenly finds himself in the past, waking up in a medieval, magical village known as "Moonspell".And it just so happens that Draco Malfoy is right there next to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first Drarry so I hope you like it. I try to update every Monday, but no promises, as life can get busy. 
> 
> Harry Potter and Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, I am in no way claiming the characters or making any money off of them.

( _Snape's_ _POV_ )

"I'm not asking if you like the idea, Severus. I am asking you if it is possible."

Severus Snape bowed his head, his hand twitching nervously behind his back. He had learned long ago to hide such movements, one wrong move and he'd be dead, after all.

"I am not sure, my lord." He murmured, his posture tense and rigid. "I do not believe that such an artifact has been created before. I must commend you on your brilliant idea though, my lord. Dumbledore would never see it coming, the old fool."

 _And I_ _shall_ _never_ _be_ _able_ _to_ _tell_ _him_ , Snape thought bitterly. _The_ _Dark_ _Lord_ _would_ _realize_ _my_ _position_ _immediately_ _if I did so._

Voldemort narrowed his eyes, and Severus felt a slight tug in his mind. The Dark Lord was obviously testing his loyalty, but Snape was prepared. His shields were always raised.

After a moment of prodding around, Voldemort pulled out of his mind, obviously pleased. Snape managed to conceal a sigh of relief, but only because he had spent years training for moments like these.

“Ah, you're quite right, Severus. You are rather skilled at Dark Magic, are you not? I believe that you could help me create such an artifact."

Snape bowed his head once more.

"My Lord, I do not believe I would be the best choice in a matter such as this. Dumbledore would be suspicious if I disappeared too often, and creating a complex artifact like this would take time. Time I'm afraid I do not have."

Voldemort nodded slowly, his red eyes carefully scanning the room. Bellatrix practically bounced at his side, her black eyes gleaming with hope.

"Lucius..." He drawled slowly, and Bellatrix deflated. "You process a wide variety of dark artifacts and information at your manor, do you not?"

Snape noted the way Lucius' right eye twitched, and he barely concealed a smirk. Voldemort scowled at his silence, and Lucius quickly bowed and stepped forward. 

"I do, My Lord." He responded. "I would be honored to provide you with those resources. In fact, I have several books on the creation of port keys, if you would find that at all useful."

A sly smile slid across Voldemort's cracked lips.

"Oh, I do believe that would be helpful, Lucius. And would you be willing to let me... stay?"

"Stay, My Lord?" Lucius questioned, his eye twitching once more.

“In your home, of course!" Voldemort exclaimed, with an expression that could only be described as glee. "It's big enough for the both of us, don't you think?"

Lucius gripped his hands together tightly, but Severus didn't miss the way that they shook ever so slightly. He suspected that the Dark Lord didn't miss it either.

"Absolutely, My Lord. Whatever you wish."

“Such generous hospitality, Lucius! Don't think that you won't be rewarded for this. In fact, perhaps it's time to add young Draco to our ranks?"

Lucius paled, but forced a shaky smile onto his lips.

"That would be wonderful, My Lord." He managed to croak out.

Voldemort gave a curt nod to the rest of the Death Eaters.

"You are all dismissed. We shall move forward with our plans."

Bellatrix cackled with glee, and several of the Death Eaters cast her a weary glance.

Severus didn't bother to stay around, despite the look of sheer desperation Lucius was trying to convey to him. He would do his best to protect Draco, but for now, there was nothing else he could do about the situation.

With one last glance around the room, he disapperated with a sharp crack!

******

“What is he planning, Severus?"

Snape sighed wearily, and gracefully slid into an unoccupied seat across from the headmaster.

"You know I cannot tell you, Albus." He replied cooly. "You have been rather obvious with your... retaliation in the past. The Dark Lord is becoming suspicious."

"I do wish that you would call him by his name, Severus." Dumbledore said, with a small sigh. "Though I understand your reasoning for not doing so. But I really must ask that you tell me, my boy. I will be careful, I can promise you that."

Severus shot him a disbelieving look.

"I would not ask you if it were not important." Dumbledore pressed. "I could tell by the look on your face that Tom is planning something big."

Yes, the headmaster always was able to read his emotions far too well.

"I'm sure you've already guessed that this has something to do with Potter." Snape murmured.

Dumbledore nodded seriously.

"I had rather hoped it wouldn't, but yes. Is Harry in danger?"

Snape gave him a long look.

"I think it's fairly safe to say that Potter is always in danger. The Dark Lord plans to make a port key."

Dumbledore frowned, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in concern.

“Where does he plan to take the boy?"

"To another world."

Dumbledore's breath hitched slightly, and he stood up.

"That isn't possible. No one has been able to create such a thing."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated.

“Yes, but it seems the Dark Lord is all about that. Doing things that no one has done before."

"And do you think he will be able to create it?" Dumbledore questioned, beginning to pace around his office.

“I do believe, with time, he will be able to create it, yes."

Dumbledore's frown deepened.

"How long do we have?"

"A few months, perhaps. There's nothing we can do besides warn Potter."

“Warn him of what, exactly? Anything could be a port key. We won't know what it is until it's too late."

Snape was silent for a moment.

"I will see what I can do. The Dark Lord may trust me with valuable information later on, and I may be able to learn what object the port key will be."

“Keep an eye on the boy, Severus. I fear he is in grave danger. Does Tom believe that he can escape his death by sending Harry to another world?"

Snape nodded slowly.

“I do believe that is the goal. And I have been watching Potter since first year, Albus. He may not know it, but I have saved his life multiple times now."

Dumbledore returned to his chair, and popped a lemon drop into his mouth.

“I shall never reveal the best of you, Severus."

Snape gave him a long, weary look.

“No one can know about the port key. Not a single soul. I will inform Mr. Potter to keep a watchful eye, though I doubt he is even capable of it."

“Now, now. Harry is a good student. But I will keep my word. No one will find out about the port key."

Snape snorted.

"Debatable. I shall retire, I'm afraid. I have classes to teach in a few hours."

“Goodnight, Severus."

*******

_(Harry's POV)_

_Harry was running through the woods. He had a feeling that something was chasing him, but he didn't know what it was. It felt large, and dark, and altogether threatening._

_“Harry Potter...." A voice whispered. "You cannot escape me. I am your past, present, and future. You will bow down to me."_

_"No!" Harry yelled. "I would never bow to you!"_

_Voldemort laughed, though he clearly found no humor in the statement._

_“You won't just bow down to me..." He sneered. "You will join me."_

_“Never!" Harry screamed, drawing his wand._

_He searched the forest around him, desperate to find the source of the voice, but he could see no one. All he could hear was Voldemort's cool voice, taunting him without mercy._

_"Don't worry." He cooed. "I will send you to a place that will have you begging to come back..."_

Harry woke with a start. He was drenched in sweat, his breathing heavy.

Ron stood over him, a concerned expression on his face.

"You okay, Mate?"

Harry rubbed at his tired eyes, and gave a shaky nod.

“M'fine, Ron." He gasped out. "Sorry to wake you." 

Ron shook his head.

“I really think you should talk to Dumbledore about these nightmares. They've been getting out of hand."

“I'm fine, really. They're just dreams. Go back to bed."

Ron shrugged.

"If you say so." He stumbled back to bed, and within a few seconds, he began snoring again.

Harry tried to ignore the envious feeling that began to swirl around his insides. If only he could be so carefree that he could fall asleep within seconds...

He shook the thoughts away, and cast a quick tempus charm. Four o'clock in the morning. He had to be up for potions in two hours anyway, so there was really no point in trying to go back to bed.

Quietly, so he wouldn't wake his roommates, he pulled on his robes and combed out his unruly hair. It didn't do much good, as his hair appeared to be untamable. He pushed his slightly crooked glasses onto his nose, and mentally reminded himself to fix them later. (Ron had stepped on them a few days ago.)

He made his way down to the common room, and was only mildly surprised to find Hermione already awake and studying. He silently joined her on the couch, and she glanced up at him with a look of pity.

“Oh, Harry. Did you have a nightmare again?"

"No." He lied. "I just woke up and couldn't fall back asleep."

She clearly didn't believe him, but she didn't push any further on the matter.

“I guess you can help me study then. Merlin knows you could use the extra help in potions." She paused, and frowned at his face. "And fix your glasses! It's no wonder you're not doing well in class, you can hardly see anything!"

"I can never do the spell as well as you." He mumbled, shooting her a hopeful look.

Hermione sighed and held out her hand.

“Fine, give them to me. But you should really learn how to cast the spell, Harry."

Harry grinned.

"Why would I learn when I have a brilliant friend like you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and half-heartedly punched his arm.

“I'm serious!" She exclaimed. "I have so much studying to do, and the last thing I need is to be fixing your glasses!"

"Oh, come on, 'Mione. It's four in the morning. Don't you ever take a break?"

"I take plenty of breaks, thank you. I just want to do well on my O.W.L's."

“You'll do brilliant. But while you're here, could I go over your notes from last Potion's class?"

Hermione let out a long sigh.

"At least one of us pays attention and takes good notes."

Harry grinned.

“You're right, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'd drop out of potions, that's what you'd do." Hermione muttered, but she handed him her notes anyway.

******

"Mr. Potter, a word, if you will."

Harry groaned, and Ron sent him a sympathetic look.

"I'll meet you in Charms, yeah?" He whispered.

Harry nodded back, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach.

“Yeah. If I'm not there in a few minutes, send help."

Ron snickered, and Snape tapped his foot impatiently.

“Mr. Potter." He repeated sternly, and Harry slowly made his way to the front of the classroom.

“Yes, Sir?" He asked.

Snape narrowed his eyes, and was silent for a few moments.

"Mr. Potter, I assume you are aware that you are in a fair amount of... danger?"

Harry glanced around the room nervously, but all the students had left the room. He was alone with Snape.

“I am aware, Sir." He replied.

Snape gave him a slow nod.

“Good. I want you to keep that in mind, Potter. You may be facing some... unexpected dangers in the near future."

Harry frowned.

Was that a warning or a threat? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

“I'll keep that in mind, sir."

“And see to it that you study potions more often. Don't think I didn't notice you sneaking glances at Mr. Malfoy's cauldron. Next time I'll be taking Ten points from Gryffindor."

Harry fought the urge to argue, to claim that he had been doing nothing of the sort. But instead, he clenched his jaw, and murmured,

“Yes, Sir." Through gritted teeth.

“You are dismissed."


	2. Chapter 2

( _Harry’s POV_ )

"Hermione, pass the salt, will you?"

Hermione glanced up with a look of disgust as Ron spewed crumbs from his mouth.

"I think you're forgetting something." She replied, her mouth set in a hard line.

Ron rolled his eyes.

“Fine. _Please_ pass the salt."

Hermione glared at him for a moment longer before passing the salt with a huff.

Just as Ron was beginning to salt his food, Harry arrived at the Gryffindor table, his hair wild and his shirt inside out. He looked frazzled and exhausted, as though he hadn't slept in days. 

Ron raised his eyebrows in a silent question, and Hermione kicked him under the table to prevent him from saying something stupid.

"Good morning, Harry!" Ginny chirped from across the table.

Ron scowled at her. Ginny had been getting on his nerves lately, constantly following him around or sitting next to him.

Harry glanced around distractedly, not noticing Ron's annoyance.

"Yeah. Hey, Gin."

Hermione frowned at him, and bit her lip as though she was debating what to say.

“Harry, your shirt's on inside out. Did you know?"

Harry jumped, as though startled to hear her voice.

"What? Oh, yeah. I'll fix it."

Without a second thought, he pulled his shirt off, flipped it around, and pulled it back on again. Ginny let out a quiet gasp, and several girls from the Ravenclaw table began to giggle and whisper. McGonagal raised a single eyebrow from the head table, but stayed silent.

" _Harry_." Hermione chided in a hushed whisper, "You can't just take your shirt off in the middle of the Great hall!"

Ron snorted.

"Well, that's exactly what he just did, Hermione."

Harry shot his friends a blank stare.

"Why wouldn't I fix my shirt?" He questioned, taking the unoccupied seat next to Ginny. "You told me it was on inside out, so I fixed it."

Hermione let out a quiet sigh.

“Harry, how much sleep have you gotten in the past few days? Are you having the nightmares again?"

“Does it matter? And yeah, I've had a few nightmares, but so what? I'm fine, Hermione, really."

"I think you need to talk to someone about these nightmares. We're worried about you. Maybe you should go to Dumbledore-"

“No." Harry interrupted. "Dumbledore is busy enough as it is. I don't need to bother him with my stupid problems."

“Mate... you're looking kind of rough. I don't think it would hurt to mention the dreams to someone." Ron commented, shoving another spoonful of porridge in his mouth.

Ginny frowned, leaning in closer.

“What nightmares are you guys talking about?" She asked. "Is everything okay?"

“Everything's fine, Ginny." Harry replied, tiredly rubbing at his stinging eyes.

Hermione suddenly slammed her book shut, making half the students at the Gryffindor table jump.

“You're not fine, Harry, and if you don't talk to Dumbledore about this then I will."

Harry was silent for a moment, then glanced around briefly to make sure that no one was listening in on their conversation. Once he was satisfied that they could talk without being heard, he leaned across the table to whisper to Ron and Hermione.

“What if I talk to Padfoot? I can send him a letter."

"Who's Padfoot?" Ginny asked, somewhat loudly.

“Stay out of it, Ginny!" Ron hissed, and Hermione short him a disapproving look.

Ginny backed away, a hurt expression on her face.

“Sorry, Ginny." Harry murmured. "We can't tell you right now."

“Fine." She mumbled, standing up and gathering her stuff, "I see how it is."

“Wait, Ginny-" Harry called, but she was already gone.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, and Hermione gently placed a hand on his arm.

“I'll talk to her later. She'll be fine. Now, about your idea. I don't think it's a bad one, but we'll have to a wait a few days for his response. If it's important, then that's time lost."

"Come on, Hermione, It's nothing. I promise that if I have another nightmare tonight, I'll go to the hospital wing and ask Madame Pomfrey for some dreamless sleep potion."

Hermione drummed her fingers on the table, wearing an unconvinced expression.

Ron shrugged, and glanced at Hermione.

“It sounds like a good idea to me. What do you think?"

Hermione was silent for a moment longer.

“Fine," She finally replied. "But I want you to tell me if you have anymore nightmares from now on. No more hiding it."

Harry shot her a small smile.

"Deal." 

Hermione nodded, then pulled out her wand and cast a quick tempus charm.

“Come on," She said. "We need to get going if we want to make it to DADA class on time."

Ron and Harry groaned at the same time.

"I can't _stand_ Umbridge." Ron complained. 

“Well, neither can I, but you don't hear me complaining, do you?"

“Yeah, yeah. You're just perfect, Hermione."

“That's not-"

“Whatever." Ron interrupted, "You're right. We need to get going."

The three of them stood up, and Neville scrambled to grab his things.

"Hey, you guys, wait up! I'll walk with you! There's no way that I'm going to be late to that class again..." He trailed off, and let out a quiet shudder. "It was awful."

Hermione shook her head ever so slightly, her foot taping impatiently on the ground.

“Come on, then. We don't want to be late either."

Without waiting for a response, she swiftly turned on her heel, and walked out of the Great hall. Harry and Ron glanced at each other, shrugged, then followed her.

Neville quickly crammed a sheet of parchment into his bag, then took off after them.

By the time they arrived to the Defense Against The Dark Arts Classroom, nearly everyone was already there. Harry was already regretting his decision to skip breakfast, as his stomach was growling loudly.

Umbridge glanced up as Harry took a seat in the front of the classroom. She smiled brightly at him, and Harry fought the urge to scowl.

She was, as always, dressed head to toe in various clashing shades of pink, and wore an obnoxiously giant cat on her necklace, charmed to meow every once and awhile.

Harry hated that cat.

"Oh, Professor, your necklace is just brilliant!" Lavender Brown piped up from the back of the classroom. "Would you show me how you did it?"

Umbridge beamed, her pink lips cracking from her enormous smile.

"Maybe some other time, dear." She replied, in her typical breathy voice.

Harry _really_ hated that voice.

“What a suck up." Ron muttered, disgust clear in his tone.

Harry ignored him, deciding to watch Umbridge instead.

Something about her was so... off. The way she smiled, her annoying, nasally laugh. And how could one human being possibly wear so much pink?

A familiar, irritating voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Checking out the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher, Potter?" The voice sneered. "She's a bit old for you, isn't she?"

“Shut it, Malfoy." He bit back.

"Ooo, what an intelligent remark, Potter. You must be getting smarter."

Harry tensed, his hands balling into fists at his sides. Ron elbowed him in the ribs.

“Leave it." He hissed into Harry's ear. "He's not worth it."

Harry released his fists, and forced himself to remain silent. He shot one last glare at Malfoy, then glanced away.

"Nothing else to say, Potter?" Malfoy asked, taking a step closer.

Harry clenched his jaw, and after a moment, Malfoy took a step back.

“Pity..." He murmured.

He walked to the back of the room where his friends sat, crackling.

“I really hate him." Harry breathed, finally unclenching his jaw.

Ron sent him a sympathetic look.

"Just ignore him, mate."

“Ahem."

The whole class went silent as Umbridge cleared her throat. Even the Slytherins had learned to keep their mouths shut when class started.

“Thank you for quieting down so quickly." Umbridge said, beginning to pace the room, "Today we will be working on the theory behind counter jinxes."

Hermione instantly raised her hand.

Umbridge’s eye twitched ever so slightly, but she forced a bright smile onto her face.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I hate to interrupt, Professor, but we've been talking about theory for five weeks now. When are we going to start practicing the spells?"

Umbridge’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and she let out a shrill laugh.

"Practicing spells? Oh no! What a ridiculous thought! No, we're only learning theory, Miss Granger. There will be no casting of spells in my classroom."

Hermione blinked. 

“But, Professor-"

“Don't look so surprised, Miss Granger! After your last few Defense Against The Dark Arts teachers, can you blame the Ministry for wanting to change things up? None of you need to learn any of the spells. There's no reason."

“But what about protection?" Harry asked, and Hermione shot him a grateful look.

“Protection?" Umbridge questioned, her voice raising in pitch. "What on earth do you need to protect yourself from? There are no threats here, Mr. Potter."

Harry barked out a short laugh, and stood up from his seat.

“No threats? Every year I've been here I've been almost killed! Voldemort is back! What happens when he tries to kill us?"

Several students gasped, and Umbridge's smile wavered.

“Don't go spreading lies around, Mr. Potter. We all know that You-Know-Who is gone. Please sit down so I can continue with the planned lesson."

“Lies? What benefit do I have from lying? I mean really. I get that the Ministry might want to change things up, but giving us another incompetent teacher isn't going to-"

“Sit. Down. Now."

Umbridge’s face had turned an interesting shade of red, one that only made her look even more ridiculous.

"Or what?" Harry spat, "You'll fire a curse at me? I thought there was no casting of spells in this classroom."

"Detention, Mr. Potter."

"Professor-" Hermione began, but was swiftly cut off.

"Not another word from anyone, or all of you will end up with detentions!"

Hermione fell silent, and Harry slowly sat back down.

"Now," Umbridge began, smoothing her light pink blouse down, "Where were we?"

She pulled out a large book, and quietly began reading about counter jinxes.

It was quite possibly the worst class Harry had ever sat through, which was saying a lot, considering he had sat through over four years of potions lessons with Snape.

When class was finally dismissed, he couldn't get out of the room quickly enough. He raced out of the room, paying no attention to Malfoy's snide remark about him not being to learn spells even if they were taught how to cast them.

He ignored Umbridge's calls for him to come back, even though he knew he would regret it later. All he could think about was writing to Sirius, and how he needed to _right_ _now_. 

He had about an hour before charms, so he knew that he had enough time to go to the common room and write a letter.

Ignoring his friends calls, he pushed through several groups of students to get to the common room. When he finally got there, he barked out the password and shoved his way inside, despite the Fat Lady's protests.

He dumped his bag out, and pulled out a crumpled sheet of parchment and a half chewed up quill.

He took a few seconds to catch his breath, then waited to see if anyone else would enter the common room.

After a few minutes had passed, he decided that the coast was clear, and began to write the letter.

_Dear_ _Padfoot_ ,

 _I'm_ _sorry_ _that_ _it's_ _been_ _so_ _long_ _since_ _I've_ _last_ _written_. _This_ _year_ _has been crazy, and we're only a few weeks in! Have you heard about the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher? She's just awful. I just got a detention a few minutes ago, actually, because I argued with her when I found out we aren't learning any spells this year! Isn't that ridiculous? Apparently the Ministry decided that we're only doing theory this year, and that we don't need to know how to protect ourselves. I really miss Remus... he wouldn't stand by and teach us nothing. Snape's been a git this year too. The other day I think he threatened me. He said something about watching my back because I'm in danger, then an hour later he took 30 house points from me! I don't know why Dumbledore even keeps him around._

_Hermione's already freaking out about about O.W.L.'s, and it's starting to drive me mad. Every second of every day she wants to be reading or in the library. She doesn't believe me that it's too early to start studying. She's actually the reason that I decided to write you, though. I've been having these nightmares a lot lately. They're mostly about Voldemort, but sometimes they're just about people dying. Hermione thinks I should tell Dumbledore, but I think she's just overreacting. They can't actually be important, could they? I promisedHermione that I'd write you about it and get your opinion before going to Dumbledore, so I'm keeping my promise._

_I hope that wherever you are that you're doing well. I miss you._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

_********_

_(Draco's POV)_

Draco Malfoy sat alone in the Slytherin dormitories _,_ staring silently at the two letters that he held in his hands _._ He had re _-_ read both of them a handful of times _,_ yet he couldn't seem to wrap his head around the fact that they were real _._

He had kicked Crabbe and Goyle out of theroom a few minutes ago _,_ much to their disappointment _._ He needed to be alone to think about things _._ He needed to come up with a plan _._

He rubbed at his temples _,_ beginning to feel a headache coming on _._ Maybe if he just readthe letters one more time _,_ then he'd be ableto understand everything _._

Because there was no waythat his father _,_ or his mother formatter _,_ would ever let such a ridiculous thing happen to them _._

He took a deep breath _,_ and smoothed out the first letter _._ If just read it again _,_ surely he would see the _"_ just kidding _!"_ that he missed the first five times _._

_Dear Draco,_

_I have a very important job for you. It has come to my attention that the mudblood Granger has been receiving better marks thanyou. You don't need me to tell you how disappointed I am, do you? I raised you better then this, Draco._

_However, there is still a way that you can make it up to me. There's a way that you can make up what a disgrace you've been to this family._

_I need you to spend as much time as you can researching portkeys for me. You see, The Dark Lord has a very important mission for us, Draco. We need to build a portkey that can allow us to access other worlds. The Dark Lord is currently going through the Manor Library, but he fears that it is not enough. You need to get as much information from the Hogwarts Library as you can. It is very important for us to be on the Dark Lord's good side, Draco, so it is very important that you succeed. I trust that you will not breathe a word to anyone about this, or you will have dire consequences. Best not to mention this to your mother, either. I expect you to report back to the manor next weekend. Do not disappoint me._

_Sincerely,_

_L.M._

Draco laid the letter down next to him slowly _,_ and picked up the next one _._ He had been foolish to hope for words of reassurance from his father _,_ but perhaps there had been something from his mother that he had missed _._

_Dearest Draco,_

_I'm_ _afraid_ _I_ _have_ _bad_ _news_ , _dragon_. _Your_ _father_ _has_ _offered_ _his_ _assistance_ _to_ _The_ _Dark_ _Lord_ _yet_ _again_ , _and_ _I'm_ _afraid_ _that_ _it's_ _a_ _situation_ _that_ _we_ _cannot_ _get_ _out_ _of_. _The_ _Dark_ _Lord_ _will_ _be_ _staying_ _with_ _us_ _in_ _the_ _Manor_ _until_ _further_ _notice_ , _and_ _will_ _be_ _hosting_ _his_ _various_ _meetings_ _there_. _You_ _mustn't_ _tell_ _anyone_. _Your_ _father_ _would_ _be_ _furious_ _if_ _he_ _knew_ _that_ _I_ _was_ _sending_ _this_ _letter_ , _but_ _I_ _must_ _warn_ _you_. _Don't_ _come_ _home_ _during_ _breaks_. _Please_ _stay_ _safe_.

_Warmest_ _Regards_ ,

_Mother_

That was it. He read the letter over and over. No new words appeared.

He desperately tried to read between the lines, but every time his lips continued to shape words that he tried to interpret as lies.

He eventually gave up, ripping the letter in half and angrily slamming his hand against the headboard. 

He took several deep breaths, and tried to calm down. Anger would only make the pounding headache that he had developed even worse. He needed to stay rational, and think of a plan. He had five days to get the information that The Dark Lord needed. Five.

"Well..." He muttered to himself, "I guess it's time to pay someone a little visit."


	3. Chapter 3

"Mr. Malfoy. A word, if you will."

Draco Malfoy froze upon hearing Snape's sharp tone, his posture immediately straightening.

Snape didn't often use that tone of voice with him, but when he did, the conversation that followed was never pleasant.

His hand lingered in front the library door for a moment, before dropping back to his side once more. He slowly turned to face

Snape, his face settling into his usual mask of indifference.

"Professor Snape," He greeted, his voice neutral, "Is something wrong?"

Snape's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his gaze flickering to the two letters that Draco held firmly against his chest.

"Wrong?" Snape questioned, slowly raising his gaze once more. "No, nothing is wrong. There are simply matters in which we need to discuss."

Draco took a step away from the library door, his eyes carefully scanning the halls for any eavesdropping students.

"And what would those matters be, Sir?"

"Not here." Snape simply replied.

He gave no other explanation before turning to walk away, his dark robes billowing behind him.

Draco let out a little huff before trailing after him. He wasn't pleased about being interrupted, especially since he was working on such a tight schedule. He had to practically run to keep up with Snape, which also annoyed him. Malfoy's didn't _run._

It was far too undignified, anyone who was anyone knew that you were supposed to _walk_ at a brisk pace. And Malfoy's certainly didn't run after _people._

Luckily, the hallways were unoccupied, considering it was so close to curfew. He couldn't imagine what his father would say if he learned that he was running through the halls of Hogwarts like some uncultured swine. 

When they finally arrived to an abandoned part of the dungeons, Draco was nearly panting.

Snape, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered.

He slowly turned to face Draco, his black eyes gleaming from the faint light that the torches gave off. His expression gave away nothing, and Draco fought the urge to pick at his pristine fingernails.

Malfoy's didn't show nervous gestures. 

Snape simply watched him for a moment, and when Draco said nothing, his eyes flickered with something that one could easily mistake as approval.

"Your father sent me a letter." Snape finally began. "He has explained the current situation to me."

"How thoughtful of him."

Snape narrowed his eyes, clearly unappreciative of Draco's tone of voice. Draco thought that he might chide him for his rude behavior, but after another moment of silence, he only muttered,

"Indeed."

"If you know about the situation, then why aren't you helping? Surely the Dark Lord would be able to put your skills to use."

"The Dark Lord knows that I'm a busy man, Draco. He doesn't ask for my help on such trivial matters."

Draco arched an eyebrow.

"Creating a portkey to another universe doesn't sound very trivial to me."

Snape let out a small sigh.

"The research is trivial, the creation is not."

Draco was silent for a moment, his lips pursed tightly together as he considered that.

"Why did you bring me here?" He finally asked.

“To warn you." Snape replied.

"To warn me about what?"

“The Dark Lord doesn't like to be disappointed, Draco. I assume that you already know that."

“Of course I know." Draco hissed. "I'm not a clueless child."

The crinkles around Snape's eyes deepened, and for the first time, Draco noticed how tired he looked.

"Once you join him, there's no going back." Snape murmured, his gaze lowering.

“What are you trying to say, exactly?"

“Be very careful, Draco. Don't let your guard down for a single second."

Without waiting for a response, he stalked away, leaving Draco alone in the dungeon hallways, trying to process exactly what had just happened.

*******

"You can do it, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, practically bouncing in her seat.

Hermione shot her a harsh look as Ginny accidentally knocked one of her books off the side of the quidditch stands.

“Sorry, Hermione!" Ginny squeaked.

Hermione let out a small sigh as she pointed her wand at the now slightly muddy book several feet below them.

 _“Accio Book."_ She commanded firmly.

The book soared into Hermione's hands, and she wrinkled her nose at the state of it.

"It's fine, Ginny." She muttered. "But you do know that it's just practice, right?"

"I know," Ginny replied. "I'm just trying to offer some encouragement."

Hermione nodded slowly, and turned back to her book.

"Why do you even come if you're just going to study?" Ginny questioned, frowning slightly.

"I could use the fresh air." Hermione responded, still not glancing up from her book.

Ginny huffed, and returned her attention back to the game. 

Fred and George were throwing something back and forth at each other, occasionally yelping as said object exploded in midair.

“Weasley's!" Angelina yelled, "Stop messing around and focus!"

The Weasley twins shot each other sly smiles before tucking the mysterious object back into their pockets and flying towards the bludgers. 

Ron, who kept getting distracted by Hermione, kept getting hit in the side by stray Quaffle balls.

"Ron! You're supposed to use your broom as a defense, not your body!" Angelina yelled.

Fred and George snickered, knowing full well why Ron was so distracted.

"Well I'm not letting the quaffle in, am I?" Ron retorted. "I'm still technically doing my job!"

Angelina shot him a death glare, and he paled immediately straightened. Though none of them would admit it, they were all at least a little afraid of Angelica. 

Harry flew high above them all, not seeming to notice the chaos underneath him.

His eyes scanned carefully scanned the area around him, searching for any hint of gold. 

He had seen the snitch a few times now, but had lost sight of it every time.

"Oi, Harry!" George called.

"Catch the bloody snitch so we can get this practice over with!" Fred finished.

Harry rolled his eyes, and squinted. He saw a brief flicker from across the field, and although he wasn't sure if it was the snitch, he dove for it anyway. 

His heart started pounding frantically, his adrenaline starting to kick in. Everything slowed around him, and all he could think about was getting to the snitch. 

The world blurred around him.

He didn't hear Ginny calling his name, he didn't hear Ron crying out in pain as he was hit with yet another quaffle.

All he could hear was the faint sound of wings hitting against metal, the way his heart pounded almost painfully against his chest. 

He was soaring through the air, his hand outstretched, his messy hair pressed flat against his head from the wind. 

And he loved every second of it.

He felt the familiar pull of a smile tug at his lips as his hand closed around the cold metal ball.

The world came crashing back around him, and he heard the cheers of his fellow teammates. He landed a few moments later, and Angelina patted him on the back.

"Nice work today, Potter. I think you're the only competent player on this team."

"Hey!" Fred and George exclaimed at the same time.

Ron didn't even bother to deny it.

"That's all for today, everyone!" Angelina called. "Let's hit the showers and get ready for another practice on Wednesday! There's no way we're letting the Slytherins win next match!"

There were a few shouts of support, and everyone headed back to the changing rooms.

Ron tugged off his quidditch robes, cringing in pain as he did so.

"What's been with you lately?" Harry asked, once they were alone in the changing rooms.

“What're you talking about?" Ron questioned, frowning slightly.

“I dunno, you just seem... distracted lately."

The tips of Ron's ears turned pink, and he kicked angrily at the ground.

"Well it's hard not to be distracted when Ginny keeps screaming every five seconds." He defended.

"Ginny was there?" Harry asked, pulling his shirt off and over his head.

Ron shot him a look of disbelief.

"How could you not notice? She was yelling your name more often than not!"

Harry shrugged.

"I was just focused on the game, I guess."

He paused, and glanced at the dark bruises beginning to form on Ron's sides.

"I think that after you shower you should go see Madame Pomfrey about those. Hermione won't leave you alone until you do."

Ron flushed again and glanced away.

"Hermione. Pomfrey. Yeah." He muttered.

Harry frowned, then glanced around to make sure that they really were alone.

"I got a letter from Padfoot this morning." He murmured in a low voice, "He's going to firecall me tonight at midnight."

Ron nodded slowly.

"That's good. I'm glad he's still doing okay. Let's shower and talk to Hermione about it afterwards. She's gonna go ballistic if we're late to Transfiguration again, and I still need to talk to Promfrey before we can go to class."

Harry sighed.

"You're right, we're going to be late as it is."

Ron shrugged.

"At least we don't have to deal with Umbridge for a few days."

"I don't know if being late to Transfiguration is any better. We can't afford to lose anymore house points this month."

Ron shuddered.

"I forgot about how crazy McGonagall went last time we lost house points. Come on, we better hurry before she gives us detention."

*******

"Harry?"

Harry jumped as his godfathers face slowly poked through the embers of the Gryffindor common room fireplace.

He must have dozed off for a few minutes, though he didn't remember ever closing his eyes.

"Sirius!" He exclaimed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, "How are you?"

Sirius shot him a tired smile.

"I'm doing well, Harry. I'm afraid I can't tell you where I am at the moment, but I can tell you that I'm safe. I'm more concerned about you. You mentioned having dreams?"

The smile immediately faded from Harry's face.

"Yeah. I've been having dreams about Voldemort. Hermione thinks that they're serious and that I should go to Dumbledore, but I don't think it's anything."

Sirius frowned, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Tell me about the dreams."

"Last night I had a dream about a werewolf. He... he was different though. He could transform into a wolf whenever he wanted, but only at night when the moon was out. It wasn't like he was an animagus like you. He was different. Voldemort was whispering something to him."

"What did he look like? Perhaps you could talk to Remus about him."

"He had light grey hair and dark grey eyes. He was... short. Shorter than the average person. I think someone called him Lovell."

"I suggest that you write Remus a letter to see what he knows. Perhaps this Lovell is real person and your brain added other aspects to his condition. What other dreams have you had?"

"They're just all about Voldemort torturing muggleborns or something just as awful. Sometimes I see Malfoy. Sometimes Voldemort taunts me. Sometimes... sometimes I see my parents."

Sirius' face softened in sympathy.

"Oh, Harry...."

"Don't. Please don't. Just tell me what I should do."

"You want to know what I think? I think that these dreams, or nightmares, or whatever you want to call them, are just your way of working things out. I think that they're very normal."

"Probably." Harry murmured, glancing down at his hands. "They just feel so... real."

"I know how it feels." Sirius replied softly. "I have my fair share of nightmares. Some nights I wake up thinking I'm back in that terrible place..."

"Yeah." Harry replied. "I knew that you'd understand."

Sirius opened his mouth, but just as he was about to speak, there was a loud creaking noise from the Common room stairs.

"Someone is coming." Harry whispered. "I have to go."

"Wait!" Sirius called quietly. "Stay safe. Keep writing me letters and keep me updated. And tell Remus... tell Remus that I miss him."

Harry nodded.

"I will. I miss you, Sirius."

"I miss you too, Harry."

With that, the face made of embers disappeared.

Neville poked his head into the common room, wearing lion pajamas and a groggy expression.

"Harry?" He called, "Who are you talking to?"

"No one, Neville." Harry quickly replied. "You must've been dreaming."

Neville squinted in distrust.

"I heard voices, Harry. I wasn't dreaming."

Harry let out a long sigh.

"Fine. I was taking to myself, and I didn't want to tell you because I was embarrassed. Happy now?"

Neville relaxed, the relief clear on his face.

"Oh. I thought someone might have broken in or something. Don't feel bad about talking to yourself, I do it all the time."

Harry forced a small smile onto his lips.

"Yeah. Thanks, Neville."

"Anytime, Harry. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Neville trudged back up the common room stairs, leaving Harry to stare longingly into an empty fireplace.


	4. Chapter 4

Lucius Malfoy sat completely straight and rigid at a large black table in the center of the Manor library. Bellatrix sat in front of him, casually twirling her wand between her bony fingers and occasionally shooting gleeful grins at The Dark Lord.

Voldemort gracefully slid in between the many shelves of books the Manor library contained, the tips of his fingers gently sliding across their spines.

"Your collection is quite impressive, Lucius."

Lucius flinched, and quickly bowed his head, his light blond hair cascading around his face.

"Thank you, My Lord." He murmured, "I'm glad that I can be of service to you."

Voldemort paused for a moment, his eyes scanning over Lucius' hunched form. Bellatrix trailed his movements eagerly, clearly waiting for her Lord's command to attack.

Voldemort was silent for a moment, then barked out,

"Wormtail!"

Pettigrew scrambled into the room, his nose frantically twitching about.

He really was a pathetic excuse of a man, Lucius thought with disgust.

"Y-Yes My Lord?" Pettigrew stuttered, bowing so low that he nearly fell over.

"Inform the others that we'll be meeting at midnight. We have matters to discuss."

"Of course, My Lord!" Pettigrew whimpered, practically running out of the room.

Lucius risked a glance up.

"Have you found something, My Lord?" He asked.

Voldemort grinned a wide, maniac smile, clearly pleased with himself.

"It just so happens that I did find something, Lucius. Last night, in fact. I had to check on some small details, but I believe that it will work."

"May I ask what it is that you've found, My Lord?" Bellatrix asked, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Voldemort took several steps towards her, then gently patted her wild hair. Her eyes went wide with astonishment and she visibly shuddered.

"My, anxious, are we? I'm afraid you'll just have to wait, my dear Bella."

Bellatrix's smile faded, and she took on the expression of a wounded puppy.

"Yes, My Lord." She mumbled.

"Now, now, Bellatrix." Voldemort practically cooed. "I have a special job for you. I will bestow the honor upon you tonight."

Bellatrix immediately brightened.

"Thank you, My Lord! I won't let you down!"

Voldemort simply shot her a small smile before gliding back over to a stack of books he had picked out.

"You may go now, Lucius." Voldemort announced. "I'm sure that you'll want to tell your wife that we'll be expecting visitors tonight."

Lucius stood up and gave a small bow.

"Thank you, My Lord." He replied. "I'll go tell her right away."

"Oh, and Lucius?" Voldemort called, just as he was about to leave the library.

"Yes, My Lord?" Lucius responded, stopping dead in his tracks.

"I look forward to seeing young Draco this weekend."

Lucius managed to force a weak smile onto his face, bowed once more, then went to find Narcissa.

When he finally found her, she was sitting in the garden alone, staring at a small pool of water in front of her.

"Narcissa, dear, I'm afraid that I have some news."

Narcissa glanced up, her face void of emotion.

"They're coming again tonight, aren't they?" She questioned, her voice flat.

Lucius let out a small sigh, and sat down on the bench next to her.

"You ask questions as though you already know the answers."

"The answers aren't hard to guess, when it comes to The Dark Lord."

Lucius nodded slowly.

"The Dark Lord is a very complex person. But you're right. They are coming tonight."

Narcissa bit her lip, a worried expression taking over her harsh features.

"Did he find a way to do it?" She whispered. "The portkey, I mean."

"I'm not sure. I think he has a few leads, but I would be shocked if he had figured it all out by now."

"It's not just him trying to figure it out, Lucius." She replied with a weary look. "He has at least twenty people working on this day and night. It's a task that sounds impossible, but has anyone else tried to create something like this before? Perhaps it's not as crazy as it seems."

Lucius was silent for a moment as he stared at the small pond of water in front of him.

"I don't know, Narcissa. I don't know if anyone's tried it before, and I don't know how easy it'll be to create one. I wish I did."

"As long as Draco isn't involved, I suppose it doesn't matter."

Lucius shifted uncomfortably, and awkwardly grasped her hand.

"Narcissa...."

Narcissa glanced up sharply at him, her eyes narrowing.

"No, Lucius. Don't tell me what I think you're about to."

"The Dark Lord has requested Draco's presence this weekend."

Narcissa paled, and quickly pulled her hand away.

"How could you let this happen?" She whispered. "You said that you could keep him safe!"

"Well what did you want me to do, Narcissa?" He snapped, "You can't just say no to The Dark Lord!"

Narcissa bowed her head, tears beginning to form in her misty grey eyes.

"I will talk to Severus about the situation tonight." She said quietly, "Perhaps there is something that he'll be able to do."

"You trust Severus with our son's life more than me?" He questioned, his eyes cold with fury.

"Right now? Yes, I trust Severus with Draco more than I trust you."

Lucius stood up slowly, his jaw clenched.

"I see how it is." He whispered.

Just as he was about to leave, a large brown owl swooped in, and dropped a sheet of rolled up parchment onto Narcissa's lap. She cautiously unrolled it, then slowly breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's from Draco." She announced.

"Well go on," Lucius urged. "Read it."

Narcissa glanced nervously at the letter on her lap, took a deep breath, then quietly began to read the letter out loud.

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_First off, I wanted to assure you both that my grades will be much better from now on, and I'll make sure that I do better then the mudblood Granger. Second of all, I completely understand the situation at home. Father, I am working hard on the task that you've given me, and I'll be prepared for this weekend. Mother, you needn't worry. I can take care of myself._

_Sincerely,_

_Draco Malfoy_

When Narcissa finished reading the letter, neither one of them spoke. They simply stared at the letter, and sat in tense silence for a long while.

********

"What have you heard about the portkey, Severus?"

Snape frowned, and took a long sip of his tea.

"I haven't heard anything, Albus. You would've been the first to know if I had."

"It's already been a week. I find it hard to believe that Tom's been completely silent about his little... project."

"Are you questioning my honesty?" Snape questioned, arching a single eyebrow.

Dumbledore sighed.

"Of course not, Severus. I'm just saying that it's suspicious, that's all."

"Perhaps. But you know what's really suspicious, Albus? The amount of time that you've been spending away from this school. We both know that the beginning of the school year is a busy time, and you've left all of your duties to Minerva while you go frolic Merlin knows where!"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his calm expression never once wavering.

"I cannot tell you exactly what I'm doing or where I'm going, Severus. But I can assure you that what I'm doing is very important, and essential to taking Tom down."

"And what, I'm just supposed to trust you on this? Just like I'm supposed to trust that you won't breathe a word to anyone about the portkey?"

Dumbledore was silent for a moment.

"I wish I could tell you, my boy." He finally replied, with a sorrowful expression, "But like the portkey, it's very important that no one find out what I'm doing."

"You're all too predictable, Albus." Snape replied harshly, standing up from his seat.

"Severus-"

"I have to go. The Dark Lord is calling me."

"It's the middle of the night. You have classes tomorrow."

Snape's expression hardened, and he turned towards the door.

"I'll deal with it, like you've expected me to do so many times before."

"Severus-"

"Goodnight, Albus."

With that, he strode out the door, and briskly walked to his office where he flooed to Malfoy Manor.

By the time he entered the Manor's formal room, most of the other Death Eaters had already arrived.

"Severus, so glad that you could join us." Voldemort called, from the head of the table.

Snape quickly bowed his head.

"My apologies, My Lord. The old fool was suspicious as to where I was going."

Voldemort clicked his tongue, as though offering his sympathy.

"No matter, you're here now. We have to wait for Goyle and Nott, and then we can begin."

Taking Voldemort's tone as a sign that he was forgiven, Snape silently slid into one of the unoccupied seats at the table. He was, unfortunately, directly across from Bellatrix, but he had always perfected to keep his enemies close anyway.

He silently scanned the atmosphere around him, taking in each and everyone of The Death Eaters appearances. Lucius looked slightly worse than before, his hair beginning to contain streaks of grey amongst all the blond. He obviously hadn't shaved in a a few days, and usually clean shaven face was now covered in dark blond stubble.

Narcissa was nowhere to be found, though Severus wasn't all that surprised. Narcissa rarely associated directly with the Death Eaters, not that he could blame her. He was surprised, however, that The Dark Lord never requested her attendance or allegiance.

Bellatrix sat to the left of The Dark Lord, her hair and eyes as wild as ever. Her husband, Rodolphus, sat next to her, his head bowed and his dark eyes full of misery. He constantly looked as though he was about to snap, and Snape hoped that when the day came, he would be someplace far away.

Mulciber and Rabastan sat at the end of the table, whispering quietly about something that Snape couldn't quite make out.

After a few more moments of waiting, Goyle and Nott burst through the door, disheveled and panting.

"Sorry we're late, My Lord!" Nott exclaimed. "There was a problem with the floo connection."

Voldemort stared at the two men in front of him with a cool expression.

"I'll let it go this time. Do not let it happen again."

"Yes, My Lord." Nott and Goyle chorused, quickly taking their seats.

Voldemort placed his hands together and leaned forward ever so slightly. Nagini slithered under his feet, causing Pettigrew to gulp with discomfort.

"Now..." Voldemort began slowly. "You all remember my plan about Harry Potter and the portkey? Well, I may have made some progress."

"That's wonderful, My Lord!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "We would be honored to hear what brilliant idea you've come up with!"

A few of the other Death Eaters gave unenthusiastic mumbles of agreement, and Rodolphus clenched his mouth tightly shut.

"Well, My dear Bella, since you're so eager to know, I suppose I won't keep you all in suspense any longer."

Everyone at the table seemed to lean forward with anticipation, and Nagini gave a sharp, _hiss_ from below them.

"Thanks to Lucius' generous hospitality, I was able to use his library to research portkeys. I stumbled upon a potion that's very old and very dark. It's a variation of a power potion. Think about the technique of apparition. It takes a fair amount of power and skill. That power and skill, amplified by ten and applied to a portkey, would allow us to send someone into another known universe."

Everyone was silent for a moment.

"My Lord, forgive me, but I'm not sure if I completely understand." Bellatrix whispered, as if she was afraid that she would be punished.

"Severus will brew this power potion for me. I will need to summon an extraordinary amount of magic from all of you, and transfer it into the potion. While I'm transferring my power, I will envision a place, and concentrate on that place the entire time I'm transferring the energy. After those steps are complete, we can create a normal portkey, and cover it with the potion. It should allow us to assess another world."

Bellatrix frowned.

"It sounds brilliant, My Lord, but what if it doesn't work?"

"Then we will find another way, Bella. Harry Potter must be... disposed of."

"May I see the notes for the potion, My Lord?" Snape quietly requested.

Voldemort shot him a dry smile.

"Of course, Severus. I'm glad to see that you're eager to start the potion."

He slid a worn leather notebook across the table, and Snape slowly flipped through its old, stained pages.

"Well?" Voldemort questioned, once he was done flipping through the book. "What do you think?"

"I think.... that it is a very complex potion, but nothing that I cannot handle." Snape replied, making sure that his occlumemcy shields were firmly in place.

"How long do you think it will take you to brew such a potion?"

Snape frowned, and glanced down at the book once more.

"Two weeks, perhaps more."

Two weeks would have to be enough time for Albus to come up with a plan. He knew he wouldn't be able to make The Dark Lord wait much longer than that.

Voldemort grinned, his mouth twisting into an unpleasant shape.

"Excellent. I'd like you to start right away. As for the rest of you.... well. We'll see who my true followers really are. I'll need at least one of you to surrender your power to me for this potion. One of you will need to become a squib."

If the room hadn't been silent before, it sure was now. The Death Eaters glanced nervously at each other, none of them quite meeting The Dark Lord's gaze. Snape stiffened, despite knowing that he was far too useful to The Dark Lord to become a squib.

After a long moment of silence, Bellatrix finally stood up and knelt at Voldemort's feet.

"I-I will do it, My Lord." She volunteered in a shaky voice. "I live to serve you."

Rodolphus went rigid next to her, his eyes lit with jealousy and anger. Snape gave him one more week before he snapped and was killed.

"My dear Bella, it cannot be you. I have other plans for you."

Bellatrix deflated, and with a defeated voice, mumbled,

"Yes, My Lord."

Voldemort's toothless smile stretched even further.

"Now," He began, his eyes lighting up in delight, "Who else wants to volunteer?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Monday is Christmas Eve, I decided to update a little bit earlier than usual. Thank you for the kudos, and Happy Holidays!

"Severus...."

" _ No,  _ Albus. I will not give up my spying position. It would be foolish. There are plenty of others that could brew this particular potion."

Dumbledore quietly tapped a quill against his giant cedar desk, his face screwed up in frustration.

"But it would stall him. He would have to find someone who could do it, someone that he deemed loyal."

Snape let out an agitated sigh.

"We're wasting precious time, Albus. Instead of pestering me, I suggest that you start coming up with a solution to our problem." 

"How much time do we have?"

"If the potion is successful, I'd say about two and a half weeks."

Dumbledore frowned, his half moon spectacles sliding down the bridge of his nose. 

"That's not much time."

"I could be giving you less." Snape hissed, irritated.

Dumbledore took off his glasses, and ran a hand over his tired face.

"I am not blaming you, Severus." He finally murmured, after a moment of silence. "You've already done more for me than I could've dreamed. But Irregardless of your work, two weeks isn't much time. Do you have any suggestions?"

Snape slowly shook his head, his angry expression beginning to fall away.

"Unfortunately not. I don't know if this is a problem that we can fix, Albus. But perhaps... perhaps this isn't all that bad. The Dark Lord is fixated on killing Potter. If Potter is sent to a different world, then perhaps he would have a chance of survival."

"And what about the rest of us, Severus?" Dumbledore whispered, in a hushed tone, "What about the rest of the wizarding world, here?"

"If The Dark Lord can figure out how to send him away, we can figure out a way to bring him back. The Dark Lord would never know that we brought Potter back, and we could use that to our advantage."

Dumbledore stroked is beard for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"It's risky." He finally replied, "I'm not sure if it's worth it."

"All of our options are risky. Our only hope of survival is a clueless teenager. You need to find the best option, and hope it works out."

"So we just let Tom teleport Harry away, and hope that we can get him back? It could take months to figure out how to reach him, and that's a waste of precious time. Harry needs to be training."

"We might not have a choice, Albus! In fact, I'm fairly certain that we don't! At the moment, all we can do is try to prepare Potter for what's to come."

"We can't tell him. He can't know that he's the one that has to kill Tom. No one can know."

"I completely agree." Snape replied, slowly taking a sip of his tea. "As much as I hate blindly throwing Potter into this situation, I think it's the best idea. He might do something rash if he found out about the plans."

Dumbledore glanced down at his hands wearily.

"I'll start coming up with a more solid plan. We'll discuss this later. Keep me updated on Tom, will you?"

Snape fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"I always do, Albus."

Dumbledore smiled tiredly.

"Thank you. Goodnight, Severus."

Snape responded with a short nod, then silently stood from his chair and left Dumbledore's office.

******

"Merlin, I swear that I haven't seen the world outside of the library and class in ages, Hermione! Do we have to study  _ again _ ?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

" _ You  _ don't have to do anything, but I'm going to library. Besides, it could be worse, Ronald. You could be going to detention with Professor Umbridge like Harry."

Ron frowned as he considered that.

"You're right." He finally replied, "I'll come with you to the library."

"Gee, thanks you guys." Harry muttered.

Hermione shot him a sympathetic look,

"It'll be over in two hours, Harry. It won't be all that bad."

Harry snorted.

"I'm sure it'll be a blast, Hermione."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, but Malfoy cut her off, roughly pushing past her to purposely bump into Harry, spilling his books everywhere.

"Have fun with your girlfriend tonight, Potter." He sneered, his friends snickering behind him.

Harry chose to ignore him, instead bending down to pick up his books.

When Draco realized that he wasn't going to get a response, his lips parted into a snarl.

"You don't even want to defend yourself, do you? Well, I suppose that you're not much different then your father. Both of you went for animals, you a toad and him a disgusting muggleborn."

Harry stood up, his books forgotten.

"Say it again, Malfoy." He hissed, "I dare you."

"Harry, don't..." Hermione begged.

Draco strode forward, his face merely inches away from Harry's.

"Your mother was a waste of space and energy, and your father was no better since he married her. It's no wonder that The Dark Lord decided to kill them. They deserved it."

Harry didn't hesitate. He drew his arm back, and punched Malfoy square in the nose. He heard and felt a very satisfying  _ crack _ , and Malfoy staggered backwards.

Hermione gasped, and Harry cried out in pain as one of the Slytherins hit him with  _ Diffindo. _

Draco hit him in the jaw before he could regain his composure, and fell backwards against Ron. He could taste the blood beginning to trickle into his mouth, and Ron sucked in a deep breath as he tried to steady him.

Glaring, he spit blood out at Draco's shoes, and Draco backed away in disgust, his own blood covering his face.

Before anyone else could make any more moves, they were swiftly interrupted by McGonagall.

"What is going on here?" She exclaimed, her voice harsh with disappointment and anger.

"Professor-" Hermione began, but McGonagall held up a hand to silent her.

"I don't know what happened here, or who started it, and I don't particularly care to find out. Fifty points from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Do not let me catch you again."

The Slytherins backed away, mumbling under their breath about how unfair it all was.

"Mr. Malfoy, report to the hospital wing. The rest of you, get to dinner."

Harry was about to walk away, when McGonagall placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Stay, Mr. Potter." She commanded, and he froze.

Ron and Hermione glanced sympathetically at him before silently making their way to The Great Hall.

When everyone was finally gone, McGonagall drew her wand and began to heal Harry's cuts.

"You already have detention tonight, do you not, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded, and McGonagall frowned.

"You're supposed to be setting an example for the younger students. I'm very disappointed in you."

Harry looked down at his shoes. Somehow, that hurt more than losing house points.

"I'm sorry, Professor." He mumbled.

"Sorry isn't good enough, Potter. Be better."

McGonagall placed her wand back inside her robe pocket with a sigh.

"Get to detention, Mr. Potter. Don't let me catch you in a fight with Mr. Malfoy again."

"Yes, Professor."

He moped away, wondering how he had let Malfoy get to him yet again.

Going to detention with Umbridge was the last thing that he wanted to do, though he supposed that Hermione was right. He could survive anything for two hours.

He trudged through the dungeons and towards the east towers. By the time he got to the Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom, he was already fifteen minutes late.

With a heavy feeling of dread, he slowly raised his fist and knocked on the door before entering.

Umbridge sat behind her desk, a tight smile on her lips.

"You're late, Mr. Potter."

"I'm glad you noticed." Harry muttered.

"What was that?" Umbridge questioned, her smile stretching so tight that Harry wondered how her face didn't split into two.

"Nothing. My apologies for being late, Professor McGongall needed to speak with me."

Umbridge slowly nodded.

"Professor McGongall often takes my students away from me. I'm not sure if she's fit to be a teacher, come to think of it. I'll have to bring it up with Dumbledore."

Harry clenched his hand into a tight fist and bit his tongue to keep himself from arguing. Fighting with Umbridge would get him nowhere.

"Please sit, Mr. Potter." Umbridge quipped, standing up from behind her desk.

Harry slid into an unoccupied seat in the front of the room, and watched curiously as Umbridge pulled several sheets of parchment and a large quill from inside of her desk.

She placed the supplies in front of him, and smiled.

"Now," She began, with a joyful expression, "I want you to write down 'I must not tell lies' five hundred times."

Harry stared blankly at her.

"That's it? And what exactly did I lie about?"

Umbridge pursed her lips tightly together, her eyes hardening.

"You know what, Mr. Potter. You lied about the return of You-Know-Who. The ministry will not tolerate such things in Hogwarts any longer."

"But Voldemort really is back!" Harry exclaimed, outraged.

Umbridge flinched, then crossed her arms over her chest.

"Six hundred times." She commanded. "And not another word."

Harry closed his open mouth with an audible  _ click _ , the tips of his ears turning red from anger. He knew that arguing with Umbridge wouldn't accomplish anything.

She was too set in her ways, too brainwashed by The Ministry. Besides, you can't argue with stupid.

Glaring, Harry silently picked up the quill and began to write.

On the first line, he hand began to itch unpleasantly. By the tenth line, his hand was beginning to crack and sting. By the twentieth line, his hand had spit open, and blood began to drip down onto the parchment.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to block out the pain. As he continued to write, he didn't dare make another sound.

By the end of his detention, he was close to chopping off his hand. It throbbed and stung, and no matter what he did, it wouldn't stop bleeding.

As he made his way out of the Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom, he wrapped his robe sleeve tightly around his hand, cringing.

Blood began to seep out around his ropes, and he quickly quickened his pace. He was so caught up in trying to stop the bleeding, that he didn't notice Dumbledore standing several feet in front of him.

With a loud  _ oof,  _ he bounced off the back of Dumbledore.

Dumbledore turned to look at him in surprise.

"Sorry sir!" Harry apologized, scrambling to stand up, "I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking."

"That's quite alright, Harry." Dumbledore replied, his eyes gleaming with amusement, "I wasn't paying attention to where I was standing."

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry. I should get going, I know it's late but I was with Professor Umbridge."

Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"Yes, I am aware. Have a goodnight, Harry. I'm sure that we'll talk again soon."

"Goodnight, Sir." Harry replied, hiding his injured hand behind his back and briskly walking away.

"Oh, Harry?" Dumbledore called.

Harry turned to face him, nervously fiddling with his robe sleeves.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Is there anything you wish to tell me?"

Harry froze.

"No, Sir." He lied.

Dumbledore nodded once more.

"Well, then. I suppose I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow."

Harry nodded, then practically ran away. When he finally arrived to his room, he breathed out a sigh of relief. Everyone appeared to be sleeping, which meant that he could deal with his hand without any questions.

He silently made his way to his chest full of clothes, and pulled out a handkerchief that he had forgotten to give back to Hermione last year. He wrapped it around his hand, and cast several healing spells at it.

When the bleeding finally stopped, he collapsed onto his bed, exhausted. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, he fell into a restless sleep, his hand still throbbing.

_ Lovell sat in front of a dying fire, staring off into the woods. A young woman sat next to him, her blond hair so bright that it practically glowed in the moonlight. _

_ "What are we going to do about this, Eileen?" Lovell asked, glancing nervously up at the half-full moon. _

_ Eileen shook her head, a solemn expression on her face. _

_ "We talk to Gideon about getting him back. We form a plan. What else can we do?" _

_ "We need to do better than that! We can't just sit around and wait while our son is dying in the coal mines." _

_ "King Octavius has the mines on complete lockdown. If we try to get in there, we'll be killed. We can't just leave like that, Gideon needs us. We weren't suited to raise a child in these conditions, either." _

_ "What are you trying to say? That our son is better off dying in the coal mines?" _

_ Lovell and Eileen faded away, and the scene melted into a very dark, very cold, coal mine. A young boy, who couldn't have been more than six or seven, stood in front of a large pile of coal, his grey eyes large and terrified. _

_ "Please." He begged, "I want to see my mom! Let me go." _

_ A man in front of him sneered. _

_ "You know what we do with whiny, rebel children like you?" He asked. _

_ The young boy slowly shook his head no, and the man grinned. _

_ "We kill them." He whispered, pulling a sword out of the side of his trousers. _

_ Without hesitation , he cut the boys head clear off, laughing as blood splattered across his hands. _

Harry woke with a start, drenched in sweat and shaking. He was disappointed to see that it was already morning, and time to get up for breakfast.

He groaned, and Ron glanced over at him from across the room.

"You okay, Mate?" He asked, pulling on a clean undershirt. "You we're talking while tossing and turning in your sleep."

Harry rubbed at his eyes and pulled on his glasses.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It was just a strange dream."

Ron frowned.

"You're not having those dreams again, are you?" He asked, "Because you know how Hermione will get if she finds out-"

"It's not like that." Harry interrupted, "It was just weird."

Ron shrugged.

"If you say so. Come on, hurry up and get dressed so we can go to breakfast. I'm starving."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"You're  _ always  _ starving."

"I don't know how you're  _ not.  _ But really, hurry up and get dressed. We need to be down there in ten minutes or we'll be late to potions."

Harry groaned at the prospect of facing an angry Snape.

"Fine." He replied, "Ten minutes."

******

By the time they finally arrived to The Great Hall, nearly all the other Gryffindors had already arrived.

Harry slid into an empty seat next to Ginny, and Ron sat across from him, next to Neville. Hermione was nowhere to be found, but Harry wasn't all that surprised. She was probably in the library cramming last minute for the potions lesson for today.

Harry glanced at the bowl of porridge in front of him and frowned.

Hiding his right hand under the table, he grasped his spoon in his left hand and slowly scooped up some porridge. It took him several minutes to eat a few bites of his food, and Ron shot him several suspicious glances during the course of breakfast. Luckily, he didn't ask any questions.

Ginny babbled on about something next to him, he wasn't sure what, but he thought that she might be taking about some new hair product to Lavender Brown.

He tuned her out, instead focusing on eating his porridge.

He jumped in surprise when she grabbed his hand under the table, which was still wrapped up in Hermione's handkerchief and hidden under his robes. He hissed in pain and quickly pulled away from her.

She glanced up at him, obviously hurt.

"Even my touch repulses you, doesn't it?" She asked miserably.

"Ginny-"

"No, I get it. You hate me." She stood up from the table and quickly walked away, sniffling quietly.

Ron glanced up from his breakfast, oblivious to what just happened.

"Hey, where'd Ginny go?" He asked, his mouth still full of food.

"I'm not sure." Harry replied, and Lavender glared at him.

"You hurt her feelings, you know." She snapped.

"I didn't mean to, she just took me by surprise, that's all. Then she stormed off without letting me explain."

"You shouldn't lead her on, just leave her alone. God, all you men are the same."

Harry looked over to Ron for support, but Ron only shrugged and took another bite of his sausage.

Harry let out a small, frustrated sigh and stood up.

"I need to send a letter to Remus real quick before potions. I'll meet you there, okay?"

"Sure, sure. Just don't be late, Snape will kill you. And we've already lost way too many house points this week." Ron replied, shoveling an extra portion of eggs onto his plate.

Harry nodded.

"I know, and most of that was my fault. I'll promise that I'll try to not be late again this month."

Ron appeared satisfied with his promise, so he turned and jogged out of the Great Hall.

He made his way to the owlery, and sat down next to an open window to write his letter.

_ Dear Remus, _

_ I'm sorry I haven't written lately, things have been really busy around here. How are you? I talked to Padfoot a few days ago, and he told me to tell you that he misses you. I miss you tons too. I really wish you could still be our DADA Professor, the new one is just terrible. I'm sure you've heard about her before, though. _

_ The reason I decided to write you is because I've been having strange dreams about Voldemort and other people being killed. I talked to Padfoot about the dreams, and he said that I should ask you about one of the dreams in particular. _

_ In the dream, there's a wolf named Lovell. He has a wife named Eileen, and they have a son. He has grey hair and grey eyes, and he can transform into a wolf on command, but only during the full moon. Do you know any werewolves like that? I'm sorry, that's probably a stupid question. I'm sure that my brain is just making stuff up. _

_ I'd love to see you sometime soon, maybe you could visit Hogwarts? I miss you. _

_ Sincerely, _

_ Harry  _

Harry carefully tied the letter around Hedwigs leg, gave her a gentle pat on the head, and watched her fly out the window.

He gathered all of his stuff up off the floor, only hesitating for a moment before turning and heading to potions.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! Happy New Year!

"Did you hear about the new rule that toadface made?" Ron whispered, his eyes darting nervously towards Snape, who sat in the front of the potions classroom grading papers.

"It's not nice to call her that, Ron." Hermione whispered back, her tone clearly conveying disappointment.

Ron wrinkled up his nose and frowned, causing his freckles to bend into strange shapes along his cheekbones.

"Well that's what everyone calls her, Hermione."

"It's still not nice." Hermione muttered, though she secretly agreed.

"How can she even make rules like that? Can't Dumbledore stop her?" Harry asked, and Ron nodded in agreement.

Hermione sighed and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Dumbledore can't do anything in this situation. The Ministry is endorsing Umbridge."

"But getting rid of dueling? How are we ever going to learn anything?" Ron exclaimed, and Snape shot a dirty look towards him.

"I think that's the point." Harry replied darkly, after Snape looked away once more.

"We'll figure it out." Hermione murmured, "But for now we better finish up our essays before Snape deducts house points."

Harry and Ron shared an identical look of loathing, before begrudgingly turning back to their potions essays.

Harry glanced down at his injured hand, which now had several concealment charms on it. He didn't think that anyone had noticed the cuts yet, but it was getting harder and harder to hide his pain. After two hours of transfiguration notes, he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to make it through his potions essay.

He knew he couldn't go to Madame Pomfrey, though he wished he could. He would have to show her his hand to get a pain potion, and he knew that she would ask too many questions if he did so.

He flexed his hand, and shook it out a few times.

"Oh, I hate when my hand falls asleep." Ron muttered next to him, and Harry froze.

"Yeah..." He replied, "Me too."

The class couldn't seem to pass quickly enough.

Hermione kept shooting him suspicious glances, and Snape was just as intolerable as usual. Malfoy and his Slytherin goonies were uncharacteristically quiet, which made him uneasy for some reason.

By the time class was over, Harry couldn't wait to get back to the Gryffindor common room. While everyone was packing up their things, he planned on skipping dinner and heading straight to bed. He didn't think that he could bare to eat another awkward dinner with his left hand while Hermione carefully watched him.

Unfortunately, Snape had other plans for him. While he was packing up his notes, he was stopped by a stern,

"A word, Potter."

Ron let out an annoyed sigh, knowing that if he he would be late for dinner if he waited for Harry.

"Go on, Ron." Harry said, forcing a weak smile onto his lips, "I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Ron asked, glancing nervously over at Snape.

Harry nodded, and Ron shrugged. He and Hermione left the classroom, leaving Harry alone with Snape.

Snape was silent for a moment, then briskly crossed the classroom and shut the door.

"You really must work on your whispering skills." He said, raising a single eyebrow, "I could hear you from a mile away."

Harry frowned, and leaned back against his desk.

"Is that why you held me back? To punish me?"

"As it so happens, Potter, I agree with you and your little friends."

Harry straightened, taken aback.

"You what?"

Snape sneered.

"I suggest you clean out your ears, Potter. You're obviously half deaf, which explains why you're so bad at whispering. I said that I agree with you. Students are learning nothing in Defense Against The Dark Arts class."

"No offense, sir, but I'm afraid that that's nothing new."

Snape seemed to relax a fraction of an inch, an almost pleased expression on his face.

"You would be correct in that observation." He replied slowly, "So the question is, what is going to be done about it?"

"I'm not sure why you're asking me, Sir."

"As much as I hate to admit it, you are not entirely menial in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Perhaps others would.... benefit from your instruction."

"What about you?" Harry questioned, "Why don't you instruct them?"

Snape narrowed his eyes, displeased.

"I am busy enough instructing clueless children in Potions, and it would not be wise of me to publicly stand against The Ministry."

"So you want me to?"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly frustrated.

"Perhaps I should've talked to Granger about this. She would've caught on by now."

Harry bristled, somewhat offended.

"I just can't believe that you'd suggest that I should start some secret uprising against The Ministry."

Snape snorted.

"I'm suggesting nothing of the sort."

"It sounds a lot like that to me." Harry muttered, before adding a quiet, "Sir."

Snape sighed, then silently moved to sit down in front of Harry.

"I am not suggesting anything. I am, however, here to remind you that The Ministry is not your friend right now. They continuously make you look like a raging lunatic for claiming that You-Know-Who is back, and now they're trying to take away your education, leaving you and your fellow classmates defenseless."

Harry was silent for a moment, processing that.

Snape watched him intently, before quietly murmuring,

"So what are you going to do about it?"

Harry glanced up at him, his green eyes flashing.

"I'm going to fight back." Harry replied firmly, "Not publicly. But I'm going to fight back."

Snape nodded, pleased.

"Do not mistake me as your friend, Potter. However, I am your mentor, and with that title comes several responsibilities. One of which is keeping you safe. Now let me see your hand."

Harry jumped, surprised that Snape had noticed that he was hiding his hand.

"There's nothing wrong with my hand." He lied.

Snape rolled his eyes.

"You're a worse liar than Longbottom. Remove the concealment charms or I will."

Harry didn't move for several moments, but when Snape didn't show any signs of backing down, he slowly pulled out his wand and muttered,

" _ Finite Incantatem."  _

The scars along his hand slowly appeared, and Snape's eyes widened as he stared, startled, at the wound. After several seconds, he quickly pulled his facial features back under control.

"The use of black quills are extremely illegal." Snape said softly, "Is there a reason you haven't reported this yet?"

Harry glanced down at his hand as he carefully flexed it back and forth.

"You said it yourself, Sir." He muttered, "Taking a public stand against The Ministry wouldn't do anyone much good."

Snape's eyes flashed with understanding, and his lips hardened into a firm line.

"I see." He murmured, "Well, I'm afraid that the scars of black quills cannot be erased, especially ones that are so... deep. However, I have several potions that will ease your pain and help the scars fade significantly."

"Why are you helping me?" Harry asked, somewhat suspicious.

"Because you're of no use in potions class until you can use your right hand again. You can't hide that injury forever, Potter, it will only get worse if you do. Ms. Granger is already becoming suspicious. I suggest you take the potions before she reports you."

"I won't be able to cast spells or curses until I can use my right hand again, either. That's part of it, isn't it? And Umbridge."

Snape was silent for a moment.

"I cannot confirm nor deny that, Potter. I'm sure you understand."

Harry nodded, satisfied.

"Yes, I understand. Plausible deniability and all all that."

"Indeed." Snape replied, standing up. "Wait here. I'll be right back."

Harry patiently waited in the empty potions classroom while Snape fetched his potions. He couldn't help but be a little suspicious of Snape's behavior, but why would Snape want to hurt him now? What other motives could he have?

He started a bit when Snape returned, but took the potions and thanked Snape nonetheless. If Snape really wanted to hurt him, wouldn't he have done it years ago? Besides, Dumbledore seemed to trust him, and that had to count for something.

By the time Harry returned to the common room, Hermione and Ron were already there waiting for him with a plate of food.

"I snagged a plate for you, mate." Ron greeted. "I figured that you might be hungry."

Harry smiled.

"Thanks you guys." He replied, "I have to go drop some stuff off on my bed, but I'll be down in a minute."

Without waiting for a response, he quickly ran up the stairs to the boys dormitory, and dumped his books onto his bed. He pulled the two potions out of his robe pocket, and only hesitated a moment before downing one and spreading the other one across his hand.

The pain instantly disappeared, and he sighed in relief. He cast a quick glamor over his hand to cover the scars, then made his way back down to the Gryffindor common room.

Ron and Hermione were talking in hushed whispers, but fell silent as soon as he joined them on the couch.

"What're you guys talking about?" Harry asked, picking up his plate of food and beginning to eat.

Hermione's glanced down at his right hand, then glanced back up again, relief clear on her face.

"Nothing, we were just talking about potions. Snape shouldn't be able to make you miss dinner like that."

"Actually, the strangest thing happened. Snape was actually  _ nice  _ to me."

Ron looked as though he felt ill.

"Snape? Nice? He's probably just trying to lure you in so he can chop you up and use you as potions ingredients."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed, looking disgusted.

"What? It's true!" He defended, holding up his hands in surrender.

"I don't think it's like that, Ron." Harry said, appearing thoughtful. "He told me that he agreed with us about Umbridge. He kind of hinted that I should start a secret group to help people with Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Hermione frowned.

"That's... that's kind of brilliant. Are you sure that he's not just trying to get you in trouble?"

"I don't think so, he seemed pretty sincere about it. I think it's worth thinking about."

"How would we even orchestrate something like that? It's forbidden for students to practice Dark Arts without professor supervision. It's even more dangerous now that Umbridge has started banning dueling and the casting of spells or curses in the classroom."

"What about the room of requirement?" Harry suggested, "Most people think that it's just a myth, we're probably the only ones that know it's there."

"Yes, unless Dobby showed it to someone other than us. And do we want to introduce that to other people?" Hermione questioned, "It's kind of a secret."

"That's the brilliance of it." Ron murmured, as though talking to himself, "It's the perfect spot. No one would be able to catch us, since no one knows that it's there."

"But having a class there would ruin the secret."

"So we be careful with who we invite." Harry said, "Besides, can't we just make everyone make an unbreakable vow not to reveal the room once they join?"

"Death seems a little extreme, Mate." Ron replied, though he appeared amused.

"Death is extreme," Hermione said thoughtfully, "But there are other ways that we can make people keep a secret. I'll read up on it."

"So you think we should do it? Start a Defense Against the Dark Arts class? What if Snape really is trying to set us up?" Ron asked.

"He doesn't know where the class would be held, and I really don't think he's trying to hurt us. Not this time."

Ron shook his head.

"This is crazy, you know that? What qualifies us to be teachers anyway?"

Harry shrugged.

"Nearly getting killed by the Dark Lord half a dozen times? I don't know."

"It's getting late. Why don't we talk about this tomorrow?" Hermione suggested, standing up and gathering her books.

"You're right." Ron replied. "I'm getting a headache just thinking about all of this."

"Meet you at breakfast tomorrow?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

"I was going to go to the library, but I suppose it can wait. I'll be there at seven sharp. Goodnight."

With that, she turned on her heel and walked up the stairs to the girls dormitory.

"She's kind of blunt, isn't she?" Ron muttered.

Harry laughed.

"A little, but it's kinda nice, isn't it? She always says what she means."

"I guess..." Ron replied, though he looked somewhat skeptical.

"Come on, we better get to bed. It's hard enough getting you out of bed in the morning as it is."

Ron looked offended.

"You've been the one that's been struggling to get out of bed lately." He retorted, and Harry laughed.

"Alright, well I guess we'll see who gets out of bed first tomorrow morning then, won't we?"

*******

_ Harry stood in the middle of a forest, staring out over a small pond. There was a girl sitting next to him, her eyes closed as she listened to the leaves rustle around her. _

_ It was dark, and hard to make out the girl's features, but Harry could tell that she was very thin, and had long, black hair. An odd kind of darkness seemed to surround her, and she seemed to command shadows around her with the flick of her wrist. _

_ After a few moments of sitting in silence, her eyes opened, and she spoke quietly. _

_ "You can come out, now." She called. _

_ A familiar girl with blond hair dropped down next to her, appearing exhausted. _

_ "I'm surprised you decided to come out now that it's dark out, Eileen." The girl murmured, raising her hand so that shadows danced away from Eileen's face. _

_ "Couldn't sleep." Eileen replied, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Lovell refuses to talk to me." _

_ "He's scared. And he knows that we're powerless in this situation." _

_ Eileen was silent for a few moments. _

_ "Can you feel the darkness?" She finally whispered. _

_ The black haired girl snorted. _

_ "What kind of question is that? I can always feel the darkness." _

_ "I'm not kidding, Adria." Eileen said, "Something is happening. Something strange. It's almost as though the light is being sucked out of me during the day. I know you feel it too." _

_ "I don't know what I'm feeling." Adria replied, still carefully bending the shadows away from Eileen. _

_ "Please." Eileen begged, "You're the only one in the group that can relate. The others... their powers... they can't-" _

_ "I know." Adria muttered, cutting her off. "I know. And you're right. There is something off. Something is about to happen." _

_ "Do you think it has to do with the king?" _

_ "No." Adria replied simply. _

_ "Caldwell was killed last night." Eileen whispered, burying her head into her arms. _

_ Adria straightened. _

_ "Your son?" She asked. _

_ Eileen nodded miserably. _

_ "A guard killed him. And now Lovell won't even look at me." _

_ "I-" Adria began, but was cut off by a scream. _

_ The two women were on their feet in an instant, running towards the sound. _

_ "They found us!" A man's voice called. "Spread out, now! Naomi, get behind me!" _

_ Adria and Eileen shared worried glances. _

_ "They're here." _


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Hope that you like this chapter! Thanks for all the kudos and comments!

**Chapter Seven**

Harry woke with a start. Adria. Who was Adria? Who had come to hurt her and Eileen?

He roughly shook his head, clearing away the thoughts. It didn't matter. It was just a dream.

Rubbing his eyes, he pulled out his wand and cast a quick tempus charm. Four in the morning.

He let out a sigh, and swung his feet out over the side of his bed, and onto the cold, stone floor. Hermione would kill him if she found out that he was still having the dreams, but there was no way that he was going to be able to fall asleep again, and he didn't think he could lay awake in bed for three hours until breakfast.

He slowly got out of bed, careful not to wake any of his room mates. He grabbed his invisibility cloak from his chest and swung it over his head, just in case Hermione had fallen asleep in the common room again.

He padded down to the common room, taking care to stay absolutely silent. Luckily, Hermione was nowhere to be found. He wasn't sure where he was going, but it didn't matter. Hermione would kill him for sneaking out past curfew, no matter the excuse.

He slipped out of the Gryffindor Common room, and breathed a sigh of relief when The Fat Lady stayed asleep and didn't question what invisible person was waltzing through the Common room entrance.

He walked slowly through the hallways, allowing his hands to trail across several paintings and artifacts. He loved being out at night, he couldn't deny it. He loved being able to take his time, being able to take in every little detail. Everything was so quiet, and there was no one there to bother him.

As he made his way to the library, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to his dream. Sirius thought that his dreams were just his way of working everything out, but he wasn't so sure about that. He didn't even know who the people were, so how could he be working things out? Besides, the dreams felt so _real._ They were vivid, unlike any other dream that he had previously experienced.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp,

"Who's there?"

Harry jumped, startled by the voice, and glanced up.

Draco Malfoy sat outside of the library, a large pile of books next to his feet. He looked weary but determined, and Harry had to double check to make sure all of his body parts were hidden under the invisibility cloak for fear that Malfoy would hex him.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes in suspicion when no one answered, his wand pointed straight at Harry.

Harry froze, too scared to move. He had foolishly left his wand in his room, and he didn't feel like facing Malfoy unarmed.

After a few moments, Malfoy dropped his wand and shook his head.

"Must be imagining things..." He muttered to himself, turning back to his books.

Harry took a step forward in curiosity, trying to read the title of the book that Malfoy currently held into his hands. What was so important that Malfoy had to sneak out into the middle of the night? What was so important that he couldn't read it in the Slytherin common room?

He squinted, and cautiously took another step closer.

Did that say...Portkeys? Malfoy was breaking the rules for _portkeys?_

Harry shook his head, bemused. He had never understood Malfoy in the past, and he certainly didn't now.

He lingered for a few minutes, before turning away. Whatever Malfoy was studying, it couldn't be that important. He was probably just trying to study for some exam, right? Or maybe he had just gotten locked out of the Slytherin dorms or something.

Yes, that had to be it.

Or at least that was what he told himself as he walked away, trying to clear all thoughts of Malfoy from his mind.

******

"Hermione, I need to talk to you about something." Harry whispered, tugging his tie a little looser around his neck.

He shoved the letter that he had received from Remus earlier deep into his robe pocket, worried that Hermione might try to read it if she saw it.

Hermione frowned, and glanced longingly at the book in her lap.

"What is it, Harry?" She replied, "Now's not really a great time. I'm trying to do some research on our... project. And I heard that we have a pop quiz in transfiguration tomorrow."

Ron was oblivious to their side conversation, happily heaping piles of food onto his plate and ignoring everyone around him.

"How could you possibly know that?" Harry asked.

"I heard McGonagall talking to Professor Sprout about it. It doesn't matter. What did you want to tell me?"

Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table where Malfoy sat, staring silently at the food on his untouched plate. Pansy was talking to him, but he only nodded occasionally. He looked tired, and Harry couldn't help but feel smug that he knew the reason why.

Hermione followed his gaze, and groaned.

"Ugh, not this again." She muttered.

"I know what you think, Hermione, but-"

"No, Harry." She interrupted, "Can't you just leave him alone? It's always something with the two of you."

"Listen, I went out last night, and I-"

"You snuck out again last night? Harry! You promised!"

"I know, but I-"

"No buts!" Hermione exclaimed, clearly annoyed. "Whatever crazy conspiracy theory you have about Malfoy, I don't want to hear it. I've heard too many over the past few years."

Harry sighed, and turned back to his food.

"Fine." He muttered. "I'll just investigate him myself."

Hermione shook her head, disappointed.

"You told me you weren't having the dreams anymore."

"I'm not." Harry lied.

"Then why are you roaming around the castle in the middle of the night?"

"I just couldn't sleep, that's all."

"I don't believe you." Hermione stated, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I'm telling the truth, I promise."

Hermione was silent for a moment as she debated on whether or not to trust him.

"Fine." She finally replied, "But at least promise me that you'll stop exploring the castle in the middle of the night."

Harry nodded.

"I promise." He replied solemnly, while crossing his fingers behind his back, "No more sneaking around."

Hermione relaxed a little, and and the corners of her mouth tugged upwards.

"Good. Since class is about to start, let's get to Care of Magical Creatures. I promised Hagrid that we'd help him set up before class."

Harry groaned.

"I haven't even finished eating! And Merlin knows what flesh-eating animal Hagrid is showing us today."

"You should've gotten to breakfast earlier." She berated him sternly. "And Hagrid is a great teacher, I'm sure it'll be fine."

"What about Ron? Why doesn't he have to help?"

"We both know how Ron gets if he doesn't eat his four pound breakfast." Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes.

Harry snorted quietly.

"You have a point there."

"Alright. Are we done arguing, then? We're already going to be late as it is."

"Fine," Harry muttered. "You're lucky I love you and Hagrid so much."

Hermione grinned.

"I know." She replied, standing up and leaving the table.

Harry shook his head slightly, wondering how he always managed to get himself stuck in these situations, then trailed after her.

*******

"Now, now. Settle down you lot."

All of the Gryffindor's fell silent, while the Slytherin's snickered loudly at the animal in front of them.

Hagrid glanced nervously at them, before clearing his throat.

"Who can tell me what kind of creature we're dealing with today?"

Hermione raised her hand, and Hagrid nodded, indicating that she should answer.

"That's a chimera. It's a combination of a lion, goat, and snake. It's most commonly known for being the strangest creature, as it also has the ability to breathe fire."

Hagrid nodded, pleased.

"10 points to Gryffindor. Yer absolutely right, Hermione. Today, we'll be learning how to deal with Chimera's in case you ever encounter one in the wild."

"If I encountered that thing in the wild, I think that I'd kill myself before it killed me, just so I wouldn't have to look at it a moment longer." Pansy Parkinson muttered, and there were several snickers.

The tips of Hagrid's ears turned red, and he quickly turned away from the laughing Slytherins.

Harry scowled, about to make an angry retort, but paused when he realized that Malfoy was silent, not even paying attention. He kicked at a rock, scuffing the top of his pristine shoes.

It wasn't like Malfoy to stay silent like that. He usually took every opportunity he could to humiliate Hagrid.

Hermione nudged his side, wearing a surly expression.

"Help Hagrid in his demonstration." She whispered, "No one else is going to want to help him."

"Why does it always have to be me?" He whispered back, dreading what was to come.

As if on cue, Hagrid called,

"Alright, now who wants to help me feed this tame chimera? Don't worry, he won't bite."

Pansy looked into the bucket of food with disgust.

"Blah. What is that? It smells awful. And it's slimy."

Several other girls nodded in agreement, quickly backing away from the bucket.

Hagrid frowned.

"Those would be the flesh-eating slugs. We talked about 'em about two weeks ago, you should remember 'em."

Lavender Brown shuddered.

"As if I could forget them..." She muttered.

"Who wants to volunteer?" Hagrid asked again, holding out the bucket, "What about you, Malfoy?"

Everyone seemed to fall silent as Malfoy slowly raised his gaze to meet Hagrid's. He was silent for a moment, before silently stepping forward, and taking a pair of gloves from Hagrid's outstretched hand.

Hagrid raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he eventually regained his composure and nodded at Malfoy.

"Good lad. Now, you just take a hand full of the slugs, keep your hand stretched out flat, and the chimera should eat the slugs right out of your hand."

"Should?" Pansy asked from behind Blaise, "What if it doesn't eat the slugs?"

"Then it burns Draco's face off." Theodore Nott commented dryly, a few feet away from her.

There were several murmurs of concern, but Malfoy paid them no attention, choosing to silently hold his hand out towards the half lion in front of him.

The beast narrowed its eyes for a moment, sniffed at his hand, then licked the slugs up off the rubber glove.

There were several sighs of relief as Malfoy stood back and pulled off the slobbery glove. A few Slytherin's clapped, and Malfoy gave a brief nod of acknowledgement.

"Come on, Hermione!" Harry whispered, "You can't tell me that there's nothing going on with him! He just willingly let a lion lick slugs off of his hand!"

"It's a chimera, not a lion." Hermione replied back distractedly, as she was busy taking notes, "And everyone has off days, Harry. I think you need to forget about Malfoy."

"What about you, Ron?" Harry asked, "Tell me that wasn't strange."

Ron shrugged.

"I don't know Mate, maybe Dumbledore had a talk with him about being nicer or something."

Harry started at him in disbelief.

"Have you two lost your minds? This is _Malfoy_ that we're talking about! Malfoy would sick his father on Dumbledore and Hagrid in a heartbeat. He already has! He has to be up to something. He was up last night and-"

"Look, listen, Mate." Ron interrupted, appearing somewhat sympathetic. "I think you're just paranoid, probably from the lack of sleep."

"I am _not_ para-"

"He's right, Harry." Hermione cut in. "You've been acting strange the last few days. If you keep up this weird obsession with Malfoy, I'm going to have to go to Dumbledore. I'm sorry, but it's just not healthy."

Harry's mouth slammed shut with an audible click, and he simply stared at his two friends for a few moments.

"I can't believe you don't see it." He eventually, muttered disbelievingly.

Hermione shook her head sadly, and Harry angrily turned away.

His friends used to trust him. They used to believe him. They used to _hate Malfoy_ as much as he did. What had happened?

Maybe he really was losing his mind. Maybe he was just imagining things.

But as he watched Malfoy, who stood towards the back of the group, staring blankly at the ground, he didn't think that he was. He knew he was right.

All he had to do was prove it.

******

Later that night, after watching Malfoy intently for about a half an hour in the library, Harry finally headed up to his room. Building a case against Malfoy was nearly impossible when all he was doing was looking at books about portkeys and apparation.

Harry was pretty sure that Malfoy had been looking at the same book as he had last night, which confused him even further. Why bother sneaking around when you're just going to read the same book out in broad daylight anyway?

Maybe he really _had_ been locked out of his dorm last night, and maybe he was just imagining things. But something just didn't feel right. And until that feeling went away, he would continue to investigate.

He kicked angrily at the chest at the foot of his bed, annoyed that he even _cared_ what Malfoy was up to.

After a few minutes of pacing around the boy's dormitory, he plopped onto his bed and began to read the letter from Remus. If anyone could put him in a good mood, it would be Remus.

_Dear Harry,_

_I was very happy to receive your letter. I'm sorry that you've been having a hard time in Defense Against The Dark Arts, I wish I could be your professor again too. Thank you for passing on the message from Padfoot. He was concerned about you, and actually stopped by to visit me two days ago. It was dangerous, and perhaps foolish of him, but I was glad to see him and he made it out of London safely. We've discussed your dreams and nightmares, and I'm afraid that there's not much we can do to help you. I've never heard of a wolf named Lovell, but that's not to say that he doesn't exist. I'm sorry that they've been such a problem for you, I wish that I could be of more help._

_I've been trying to lay low since word got out about me being a werewolf, but I do have to make a trip to Hogwarts every so often to collect wolfsbane from Professor Snape. I'll make it a point to stop by next time I come to Hogwarts. I miss you as well, Harry, very much so. I'll see you soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Remus_

Harry laid the letter down with a sigh. It looked like no one was going to help him but himself.

******

"You look tired, Severus."

"Well, teaching incompetent children will do that to you, now won't it, Minerva?"

McGongall fought to hide the small grin tugging at her lips, choosing to cover it by taking a long sip of tea.

"You don't have to hide your amusement, it's only me. Albus isn't here, no need for appearances."

"What if I'm just trying to be a good person?" McGongall asked, marking a students answer wrong on the test in front of her.

"How dreadful," Snape muttered, "And exhausting."

"I don't know why you ever chose to become a professor."

"To pass on my brilliance? Don't say you don't enjoy my company, I'm the only sane one here. We both know Albus is out of his mind."

McGonagall let out a quiet laugh, somewhat amused. They sat in silence for a few minutes, grading papers and taking quiet sips of tea here and there.

"You know," McGonagall murmured, breaking the silence, "I've been meaning to ask you about something."

Snape stayed silent, not bothering to glance up from his papers.

"The students have been... different this year. Especially the Slytherins. Things are changing. Do you know what it could be?"

Snape glanced up, slowly putting his quill down.

"Perhaps it has something to do with the accusation Potter threw out after the Triwizard Tournament." Snape suggested softly.

McGonagall's eyes widened.

"I never thought Potter a liar.... but this. I never thought that this would happen. Has he really returned? Is that why the students have been so tense this year?"

"I believe they're more tense than ever because of their current defense against the Dark Arts Professor. They're scared that the rumors are true, and they have no way to protect themselves." Snape muttered.

McGonagall nodded.

"There's something we can both agree on."

"Ah, I was quite hoping that you would say that."

McGongall snorted.

"Anyone with half a brain would know that that woman is pure evil. I don't know what the Ministry is thinking! And Albus can't do anything about it, of course."

"Yes, because Albus has made such great choices when it comes to finding suitable professors in the past."

"Lupin wasn't bad." McGonagall commented mildly.

"No," Snape agreed, "He wasn't."

They were silent for a few more moments.

"Do you think we should be worried about Potter?" McGonagall finally asked. "If You-Know-Who is really back...."

"I think we've both known that he's been back for awhile now. So yes, I do think that we should be worried about Potter."

"So what do you suggest we do, then?"

Snape turned back to his papers with a frown.

"We continue to train him in our area of expertise as best as we can. That's all we can do."

With that, he continued grading papers again. McGonagall stared off into the fireplace for a moment before picking up her stack of ungraded tests.

The atmosphere was tense for a few moments, until Snape murmured,

"Oh, you'll never guess what one of your Gryffindor's thinks a pepper-up potion does. Hopeless, the whole lot of them."

McGonagall relaxed a fraction of an inch and accepted the outstretched paper in Snape's hands. She trusted him, and If Snape wasn't worried about the situation, then perhaps things wouldn't be that bad after all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I started a new novel, and life has been pretty busy lately. I may be slow at updating, but I will eventually finish the fic. I plan for it to be about 120,000 words, just so you all know what you're getting into. I hope you all are having a great Monday, and as always, thank you for the comments and kudos

"Young Draco. How wonderful it is to see you."

Draco bowed his head, and took several steps forward.

"I have the research that you asked for, My Lord." He murmured quietly, holding out a stack of books.

Voldemort grinned.

"Ah, so you can follow instructions. Good. As it so happens, I won't be needing your assistance in that particular matter anymore."

His hands shaking, Draco lowered the stack of books and placed them silently on the table next to him. Nagini trailed his every movement, hissing softly into her master's ear.

Voldemort hissed back, and everyone in the room flinched.

"You may sit now, Draco." Voldemort said, glancing down at his fingernails as though bored.

Draco walked stiffly back to his seat next to Narcissa, who had decided to attend the meeting. Besides Bellatrix, she was the only woman in the room. The contrast between the two women was stunning, dark against light, elegance against insanity.

Lucius sat on the other side of her, refusing to make eye contact with anyone, including Draco.

"Now, we talked briefly about what was needed for our... project. With some help, I have decided who will be giving up their magic tonight."

Draco froze, and Narcissa gripped his hand tightly under the table. He hadn't been aware that someone was becoming a squib tonight. What if it was him? His father would surely disown him, he'd have nowhere to go.

"I have decided that Roldolphus will be surrendering his power."

Draco let out a sigh of relief, and Roldolpus stood up, outraged.

"It was you!" He snarled, pointing his wand towards Bellatrix, "You told him it should be me!"

Bellatrix grinned as Voldemort silenced him with a quick  _ crucio,  _ and Draco shuddered. Roldolphus fell to the ground, his strangled screams ringing around the room.

Snape sat across from Draco, with an expression that one could only describe as satisfaction.

"I'll kill you for stepping out of line." Voldemort announced, his tone icy. "But first, you have something that I need."

He raised his wand, and without hesitation, yelled,

" _ Accipere Virtutem!" _

Roldolphus' body convulsed as rays of light came out of his chest and into Voldemort's wand. When there was no more light, Voldemort ended the spell. Roldolpus' eyes rolled back, and he fell limply to the floor.

"Well," Voldemort murmured, "I guess I don't have to worry about killing him anymore."

No one spoke, and Narcissa grasped Draco's hand even more tightly.

"Now, Draco. You will need to leave the room as you have not yet earned your place as my servant. Perhaps in the following weeks you will be able to earn my trust, and obtain a spot amongst the ranks."

Draco stood and bowed, trying not to show how shaken up he was.

"Thank you, My Lord. I live to serve you."

"You are dismissed."

With that he turned and slipped out of the formal room. It took everything he had not to run to his bedroom. Instead, he walked at a quick pace, keeping his head high. Even when one was alone, Malfoy's kept their appearances. You never knew who was watching.

His facade crumbled by the time he had reached his bedroom though, and it took everything in him not to break down crying.

Someone had  _ died  _ tonight, and it could've been him. And The Dark Lord.... he was, well, he was  _ terrifying.  _ There was something about his faux politeness, the way he smiled as though he was your friend, the way his eyes gleamed as he cast crucio.

The Dark Lord had no remorse or sympathy. He was a psychopath, a master manipulator.

And he was in Draco's house.

He was  _ sleeping  _ there for Merlin's sake. His  _ mother  _ stayed in the manor ninety percent of the time. What if something happened to her?

He wanted to tell someone, but he didn't know who. Who could help him? Dumbledore? No, Dumbledore would just lock his family up in Azkaban. There was no one that could help him but himself.

There was a quiet, nagging voice in the back of his head that said that maybe he should start trusting Potter. After all, Potter had been right. The Dark Lord was really back, and he was the only one who could defeat him it seemed. Maybe he could join the light....

No. That wasn't an option. His father had already pledged their loyalty to the dark side, it was too late. The only thing he could do was obey The Dark Lord's wishes and hope that he survived.

He really hoped that he would survive, that The Dark Lord would be defeated.

And maybe, just maybe, he hoped that Potter would be the one to take that absolute Monster down.

*****

"I can't believe that she's allowed to do this!" Seamus exclaimed, pounding his fist against the common room table.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It's stupid, but none of the other professors are enforcing it. Besides, Umbridge can't get into our common room unless she has the password. I think we're safe here."

"But really, six inches apart? What are we supposed to do in class! I sit next to you." Ron complained.

"They already set up the classrooms so that boys are on one side and girls are on the other."

Seamus groaned.

"I'm never gonna get laid now!” 

"It wasn't gonna happen anyway." Dean replied, grinning.

"Can you guys stop for one second? Having to stay six inches away from girls isn't your biggest problem. Umbridge is slowly making it so we learn absolutely nothing! We aren't going to be able to practice any magic soon!"

Ron nudged Harry.

"What do you think about all this?"

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know. I think we need to get to divination before Professor Trelawney freaks out that I'm dead."

Ron stared at him in disbelief.

"That's it? You don't care? What about quidditch?"

Harry sighed.

"I never said that I don't care, I just think there's nothing that we can really do about it right now. She'll probably be gone by next year anyway."

Hermione sighed.

"Harry's probably right. And as much as it pains me to say it, you should probably go to divination before you lose any more house points."

"Trelawney doesn't take house points. She just lies and says that she knew that we'd be late."

"Well, you should go anyway. You want to do well on your O.W.L's don't you?"

"I guess..." Ron mumbled, gathering his things.

"It really is a waste of a class." Hermione muttered.

"We need it to get into the Auror program." Harry replied.

Hermione huffed.

"Merlin knows why."

"Well... will we see you for dinner?" Harry asked, standing up.

"Maybe." Hermione replied, "I might go to the library."

Ron snorted.

"Maybe I should be the next divination professor, because I could've predicted that."

Hermione glared at him, and he frowned.

"It's just a joke, 'Mione." Ron muttered.

"I think you should go now." She replied cooly.

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but Harry sharply nudged him, preventing him from saying anything stupid.

"Come on." He whispered, half pulling him out the door.

"Why do you think Hermione's been so moody lately?" Ron asked, once they had left the common room.

"She's just stressed about schoolwork. Try to go easy on her."

Ron frowned, but said nothing until they reached the divination classroom.

"Blah. You can smell that stupid incense from a mile away. I'm getting a headache already."

Harry nodded in agreement, then climbed the ladder into the classroom.

Luckily, they had class with the Hufflepuffs, which meant that he could avoid running into the Slytherins.

Professor Trelawney stood in the front of the classroom, gazing into a large crystal ball. Her already wide eyes were magnified by her large glasses, and her hair stuck up wildly in all directions.

"Mr. Potter!" She called, with a horrified expression, "You are in grave danger! Please, sit down!"

"Here we go again...." Ron muttered.

They quickly took their seats, and waited for class to begin. Once the other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs had entered the room, Professor Trewlawney began to pass out several large textbooks.

"Now," She began, in a somewhat shrill voice, "What can anyone tell me about dreams."

There was silence. Everyone glanced down at their desk, trying not to make eye contact for fear that they'd be called on.

"No one?" Trelawney asked, somewhat disappointed.

Again, she was met with silence.

"Well, dreams are very tricky things to interpret, but every dream means something. If you open your textbook to page 89, you'll see a list of some common dreams and what they mean. However, true seers may have a gift. Some wizards and witches can see things that have happened or things that  _ will  _ happen in the future. Fascinating, isn't it?"

There were a few unenthusiastic mumbles, and Trelawney continued on with the lesson.

Harry, who was bored out of his mind, began to drift off. The strong lavender incense was too much for him, and he fought the urge to give in to sleep.

Unfortunately, he didn't win the battle. He woke up thirty minutes later, to Ron shaking him awake and telling him that class was over.

He groggily rubbed at his eyes with one hand, and stretched out the other. However, since his eyes were closed, he accidentally knocked the crystal ball of the edge of his desk, causing it to shatter into a million pieces on the ground.

"Crap." Harry muttered.

Trelawney didn't even flinch.

"Ah, I predicted that would happen. Go get the broom and dust pan from the closet and take care of it."

Harry sighed, and went to retrieve the dust pan. When he came back, Ron stood in front of the divination entrance, scuffing his feet against the ground.

"I gotta go serve detention with McGonagall." Ron announced, frowning. "I'd stay and help you clean up, but I can't be late."

"It's fine, Ron." Harry replied, bending over to sweep up the glass, "I'll see you at dinner."

Ron nodded, and slowly climbed down the ladder, an expression of dread on his face. Harry couldn't blame him, detentions with McGonagall weren't fun.

A few seconds later, he heard the creak of the ladder once more. He assumed that Ron had forgotten something, so he didn't bother glancing up.

He was sweeping up a particularly large shard of glass when a sharp, "Potter." Startled him, causing him to slice open his finger against the rigid piece of glass.

"Malfoy." He practically spat, sucking the blood off his finger, "What do you want?"

"I'm here on business. Snape needs something from that nervous wreak of a nut job."

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but fell silent as he took in Malfoy's appearance. He was almost alarmed at how tired Malfoy looked, though he immediately berated himself for noticing something so stupid.

"Can I help you?" Trelawney interrupted, stepping out from her office.

Malfoy immediately straightened.

"Professor Snape needs to borrow some tea leaves for a potion he's brewing." He replied.

Trelawney frowned.

"Doesn't he have his own?"

"Obviously not...." Malfoy drawled, with a look of contempt.

"Well... I suppose he can have a few..." She murmured, turning back towards her office.

She only made it a few steps before crumpling to the ground, and choking for air.

Harry sprang to his feet, his mess forgotten. Draco took an uncertain step towards Trelawney, an almost startled expression on his face.

Trelawney's eyes rolled back, and with one last sharp breath she choked out,

" _ When the moon appears, darkness will descend. Two enemies will unite as friend. The blond haired Dragon and the boy who lived, they will fight and they will defend. The dark silhouette will end up dead, and In the end, the king will regret what he has said." _

Harry and Draco shared a startled look as Trelawney stood up.

Trelawney stared at the two students in front of her, her eyes glossed over and her expression dazed.

"Can I help you?" She asked, loudly clearing her throat.

Draco quickly took a step backwards, and shakily replied,

"No, I was just leaving."

With that, he turned on his heel and left the classroom empty handed.

"Wait, Malfoy!" Harry called, rushing towards the exit, his crystal ball forgotten.

He ignored Trewlaney's demands for him to come back and clean up his mess, instead choosing to race down the ladder.

By the time he climbed down the ladder, Malfoy was already brusquely waking away.

"Malfoy!" He called, jogging after him, "Wait up!"

Draco halted, and turned to face Harry with a glare.

" _ What _ ." He hissed.

"Aren't we going to talk about what just happened?" Harry asked, gesturing towards the room behind them.

"I see nothing to talk about."

"What do you mean there's nothing to talk about? You heard what Trelawney just said, that prophecy was about us!"

"It most certainly was not." Malfoy replied, staring at Harry with a disgusted expression.

"Come on, I know you aren't that dense. The-Boy-Who-Lived? The blond haired dragon? It can't be a coincidence that both of us were there to hear that!"

"Merlin, Potter, why does everything have to be about you! It's like you think that the whole bloody world revolves around you! Just forget it ever happened, alright?"

"I can't forget that it happened, Malfoy! What if it's important? What if it's about Voldemort?"

Draco flinched, then scowled.

"It was nothing! Just drop it, okay?"

"But-"

"Some of us have more important things to worry about, Potter! Things that actually mean something! If you and your filthy mudblood friend want to waste time thinking about this, than be my guest. But leave me out of it."

With that, he stomped angrily away, leaving Harry to stare after him, utterly conflicted on what he should do next. 


	9. Chapter 9

"You've not been yourself, lately." Hermione whispered, shooting a nervous glance towards Madam Pince.   
  
Harry ran a hand over his tired face, and quietly shut the book he was reading.   
  
"I've just had a lot going on." He replied, not quite meeting her eyes.   
  
"Are you still caught up in Malfoy? Because I told you-"  
  
Harry's arm jerked away from his face, his posture straightening.   
  
"It's not about Malfoy." He muttered, somewhat unconvincingly. "I've just been thinking about what Snape said."  
  
"About teaching students DADA spells?" Hermione questioned. "I've been thinking about that too. I think we should start finding people who are interested."  
  
"Did you ever research the spell that would keep people quiet? I mean, did you figure out how to use another consequence that wasn't death."  
  
Hermione looked somewhat offended.  
  
"Of course I did! I told you days ago that I would, Ive just been waiting for you to bring it up."  
  
"So we're definitely using the room of requirement?" Harry asked.   
  
"I can't think of a better place to meet." Hermione replied. "Why don't we start working on a list of people we want to invite? That way, we could have the class going by next week."  
  
Harry shrugged.   
  
"Sounds good to me. The sooner we start defending ourselves, the better. Voldemort could be planning an attack against Hogwarts as we speak."   
  
Hermione bit her lip, concerned.   
  
"Is that why you've been so on edge lately? I mean, You-Know-Who has always been a threat, but-"  
  
She was abruptly cut off, as Malfoy came up from behind Harry, and slammed a newspaper in front of him. Crabbe and Goyle laughed obnoxiously behind him, and Madame Pince shot them a dirty look.   
  
"I see you've moved on to dating mudbloods, Potter. It's no surprise, considering no one else would want you."  
  
Hermione pressed her lips tightly together, and narrowed her eyes at the newspaper in front of Harry. Her eyes scanned the headline, but she said nothing.   
  
"Shove off, Malfoy." Harry muttered, refusing to rise to the bait. "I've got more important things to worry about than your obsession with my love life."  
  
Malfoy's cheeks tinted a bright red, and he sputtered angrily.  
  
"Just you wait, Potter." He spat, "Pretty soon you'll be six feet under, and you won't have to worry about anything."   
  
He stormed away angrily, leaving Crabbe and Goyle to stumble uncertainty behind him.   
  
Harry glared after him, and Hermione silently slid the newspaper into her bag.   
  
"Hey!" Harry retorted angrily, "I wanted to read that!"   
  
Hermione sighed.   
  
"It'll just upset you." She replied.   
  
"I still want to read it."   
  
Knowing that Harry was set in his ways, Hermione handed him the newspaper with another sigh.   
  
Harry was unsurprised to see that it was a copy of _The Daily Profit_ , complete with a large portrait of Rita Skeeters face. He was, however, surprised to see Ginny Weasley, with her am casually looped around Micheal Corner's waist.   
  
The headline read,   
  
**The Boy Who Lived, Too Disturbed To Date?**   
  
Harry groaned.   
  
"I get why the press would go after me, but can't they leave Ginny alone?"   
  
Hermione cleared her throat and shifted awkwardly in her seat.   
  
"Well... actually... it turns out that Ginny went to _The Daily Profit_ herself."   
  
"She what?"   
  
"Well... she was rather angry with you, and Rita offered her a pretty penny for that article...."  
  
Harry slammed the newspaper down, frustrated.   
  
"If it's not one thing, it's another." He muttered. "I bet Malfoy encouraged her to go to Skeeter..."  
  
Hermione sighed.   
  
"Malfoy had nothing to do with this, Harry." She replied. "He just wanted to taunt you with the newspaper like always. Forget about him."   
  
"Sometimes it feels like the whole world is out to get me." Harry muttered, glaring at the crumpled newspaper in front of him.   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes.   
  
"Don't be so dramatic. Now, why don't you do something useful and start planning your DADA lesson for next week? If you can do that, I'll take care of the invitations. Deal?"  
  
Harry nodded, though he was in no mood to think about DADA at the moment.   
  
For some reason, all he could think of was Ginny, and broken glass, and Malfoy's lips forming the words six feet under.   
  
The thoughts followed him to his dreams that night, where all he heard was Trelawney's rasping voice whispering,  
  
" _The prophecy is true, The prophecy is true, The prophecy is true..."_ _  
_  
********  
  
"Things are changing around here, Severus. I can feel it."   
  
Snape barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.   
  
"With all due respect, Headmaster, I'm not sure that you'd know if things were changing or not. You're never here to witness it."   
  
"I may be gone often, but I sense when there is trouble."  
  
"Trouble?" Snape questioned. "I think your senses are dwindling with age, Albus."   
  
"Professor Umbridge is changing the school. She's changing the aura of it, she's changing its purpose."  
  
This time, Snape did roll his eyes.  
  
"No one would doubt that Professor Umbridge is changing the school for the worst, but it's aura? You've been spending far too much time with Professor Trelawny."  
  
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, his blue eyes fixated on the table in front of him. His silence was almost unsettling. The air around them felt heavy, almost dark.   
  
"Something happened, Severus." He finally murmured, "Something that I fear cannot be undone."   
  
Snape glanced up, his black eyes meeting Dumbledore's with ease. He appeared calm, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. There was something about the way Albus stared at him. He looked as though Snape was his only hope left in the world, as though he was powerless.   
  
"I won't lie to you and say that all things can be undone. You know that I've never been one for sympathetic tendencies, I will be honest with you. What happened."   
  
Slowly, shakily, Dumbledore pulled his hand out from underneath the table.   
  
Snape barely concealed his wince upon seeing the cursed, burnt hand.   
  
"How long have you been using your magic to mask that? Something of that magnitude does not happen over night."   
  
Dumbledore let out a tired sigh, his eyes wandering aimlessly over his blackened fingers.   
  
"A few days. I thought that I could stop it from spreading, but I can't do it alone. I need your help."   
  
Snape reached out, and carefully trailed a finger down the side of Dumbledore's hand. Dumbledore's hand twitched, and Snape quickly pulled his hand away.   
  
"What did this? I don't recognize the curse. If you cannot stop it, it must be rare. Or perhaps you need help brewing a particular potion?"   
  
"I don't know what I need to stop the curse. As for what caused it... well, I'm afraid that it's a rather complicated story."   
  
"Explain."   
  
"You've heard of a horcrux, have you not?"   
  
Snape froze, his eyes snapping up to meet Dumbledore's.   
  
"I have indeed...." He replied softly, his voice low.   
  
"I've been trying to destroy several horcruxes for quite some time now. That is why Minerva has been taking care of so many of my duties the past year. I am afraid that this matter is more pressing than my Hogwarts duties."   
  
"Whose horcruxes." Snape uttered in a hoarse voice. "Whose soul is it."   
  
Dumbledore was silent.  
  
"Albus...."   
  
"They belong to Tom. He created several horcruxes. I've been trying to destroy them before it's too late, before he takes over-"  
  
"No."   
  
"No?"   
  
"I refuse to believe that! How long? How long have you've known?"   
  
Dumbledore glanced down, refusing to meet Snape's eyes.   
  
"I've had my suspicions for quite some time. It was not until the beginning of this year that I knew for certain."   
  
"So what, you just decided to go off and destroy them on your own? Without telling anyone of their existence? What if something had happened to you, Albus? What if you had _died_? No one would have known that they existed! Do you know how much you put in jeopardy?"   
  
Dumbledore sighed, and fiddled with a small, golden ring around his finger.   
  
"I know what I did, Severus. I had to do what I thought best. I'm telling you now. I'm asking you for help."  
  
Snape stared at him, and almost disgusted expression on his face. He said nothing.   
  
"I'm begging you."   
  
The frown did not disappear from Snape's face, but he gave a slight nod. It was all Dumbledore needed to know that he would help.   
  
"Where is the horcrux now?" He questioned. "Seeing it may help me devise a plan."   
  
Dumbledore nodded down towards the ring on his finger, and Snape flinched backwards.   
  
"You're _wearing it_?" He hissed.   
  
"It's not as though it's of any harm now, Severus. The piece of Tom's soul has been destroyed. It's only the curse itself that remains."   
  
Snape shook his head, clearly appalled.   
  
"I will never understand your actions, Albus."   
  
Dumbledore short him a small smile.   
  
"Can you help?"   
  
Snape snorted.   
  
"Of course I can help. It will take a while to brew the correct potion, and it may take some tweaking, but I can help."   
  
"Thank you." Dumbledore replied, relief written clearly across his features.   
  
"It will not be a cure." Snape warned. "I can only prevent it from spreading for a short period of time."   
  
Dumbledore nodded, his face grim.   
  
"I figured as much, Severus. We both know that my time is coming."   
  
Snape bowed his head, and something of understanding flashed across his eyes. Without Dumbledore, their hopes of winning the war were grim.   
  
"Will you be able to complete the potion before the power potion is complete?" Dumbledore asked, interrupting his thoughts.   
  
Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. He could feel a headache beginning to form behind his eyes, and his usually displeased expression morphed into a weary one.   
  
"I will make sure it is complete before then." He muttered, "Though I predict I will have many sleepless nights."  
  
"You don't know how grateful I am."   
  
Snape ran a hand over his face, closing his eyes briefly.   
  
"Several horcruxes...." He finally whispered. "Not one, but several. Do we have any hope of winning this war?"   
  
"I hope so, my boy. I hope so."   
  
*******   
  
Snape walked away from Dumbledore's office, worn. He knew that he had a long night ahead of him, and was seriously considering taking a dose of wideye potion. He usually refrained from brewing under the influence of other potions, but in this case, he was willing to make an exception. Perhaps he would take something for the pounding headache that he had developed in the past hour as well.   
  
He slowed to a stop as he passed the Defense Against The Dark Arts classroom. He could vaguely make out Umbridge's shrill voice behind the closed doors of her office. He didn't know what she'd be doing awake at such a dreadful hour, especially since she had a class to teach early the next morning.   
  
He paused, and whispered,  
  
" _Sonorous_."   
  
Umbridge's voice immediately became louder, and he eased away from the door.   
  
"Dumbledore is _clearly_ unfit to be headmaster of this school!" She complained. "I fear he is going insane, Minister, and he's hardly ever here!"  
  
"Dumbledore is the least of our problems at the moment. What are you going to do about Potter? Is he still spreading nonsense about You-Know-Who?"  
  
Umbridge laughed, seemingly delighted.   
  
"Oh, I don't believe that he'll be spreading lies about that any longer."   
  
The image of Potter's hand, with the words, _I must not tell lies_ carved into it immediately popped into Snape's mind. If he hadn't been sure it was Umbridge before, he certainly was now.   
  
He backed away from the door, and silently ended the spell. He had heard all he needed. Really, overhearing her conversation with the Minister didn't change anything in his mind. He knew that the Ministry was not Potter's friend, and he knew that Umbridge was dangerous.   
  
He needed to keep a closer eye on her though, after what happened with Potter in detention. He felt as though he was being pulled in too many different directions, between Potter, Albus, and his services to The Dark Lord.   
  
Though he suspected that Minerva was already keeping a close eye on Umbridge, he made a mental note to talk to her about it tomorrow.   
  
With what seemed like a million thoughts running through his mind, he made his way to his potions classroom, and shut the door.   
  
It was going to be a long night.   
  
  
*********  
  
" _The prophecy is real.... The prophecy is real...."_   
  
Harry was alone in complete and utter darkness. The voice of Trelawney hissed her warnings over and over again, and it was entirely unhelpful.   
  
Though he didn't know it, he tossed and turned and groaned in his sleep.   
  
"What does it mean?" Harry called out. "Who's the king? What does this have to do with Malfoy?"  
  
" _It's real.._."   
  
" _What_ is real?" Harry yelled, frustrated. "What do I do?"   
  
" _You disappear.._." The voice whispered. " _All you have to do is disappear_."


End file.
